


NCT/WAYV Avatar: The Legend of Yangyang

by yanjunslut



Category: NCT (Band), WayV (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Avatar & Benders Setting, Inspired by Avatar: The Last Airbender, M/M, Sexual Tension, introducing characters and relationships as i go, maybe more im not a slut but who knows
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2020-08-23 17:07:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 50,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20246323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yanjunslut/pseuds/yanjunslut
Summary: Long ago, the four nations lived together in harmony. Then, everything changed when the Fire Nation attacked. Only the Avatar, master of all four elements, could stop them, but when the world needed him most, he vanished~waterbender na jaemin is desperate to hone his skills with the help of avatar yangyang while the boys all navigate the ongoing war against the fire nationall of both nct and wayv will be introduced as the story goes on!





	1. the boy in the ice

**Author's Note:**

> i couldn't get nct and wayv as benders out of my head and here we are 
> 
> much of the groundwork is extremely similar to the show, but after this first part it will probably begin to drift further from the source material. 
> 
> i'll be setting the story just through the cities, so the boys will make their appearances depending on what kingdom the chapters are set in (until they begin to merge as the story branches out)

**Water Tribe **

_South Pole _

“Watch and learn, Nana. This is how you catch a fish.”

Jaemin sighs, eyeing the boy across from him raising a spear as he leans over their canoe. He slips one of his gloves off, spotting a fish near him. Concentrating hard, he waves his hands gracefully over the water, catching the fish in a bubble of water. “Jaehyun, look! I caught one!”

“Huh?”

Jaehyun turns, and as he does so his spear pops the bubble, sending the fish flying back into the water and drenching himself. He groans. “Would it kill you not to fuss around with that dumb bending? Stop being embarrassing, it always ends in me getting soaked.”

“Embarrassing? I’m not the one staring at my reflection in the water.”

The blonde boy across from him rolls his eyes. “Just catch the fish like the rest of us, please.”

His older brother- Jaehyun- had never been particularly supportive of Jaemin’s love of waterbending. If it weren’t for their current leader Jaemin would have no skill at all.

For all Jaemin blamed his brother for this, he knew deep down that the older boy was just trying to follow through on the orders given to him from their father. Now aged twenty-two and nineteen, the two of them had spent eight years without their parents.

As a young child, Jaemin had showed more aptitude for waterbending than anyone else in the tribe. Jaehyun had skills, but nothing ground-breaking. At first, the boys’ father had travelled in search of a waterbender to train Jaemin, but had found none.

When the Fire Nation began to increase in power, their father had instructed anyone with bending skills to no longer use them, hearing the rumours that the soldiers were killing any benders in the three other nations.

Jaemin hadn’t been able to help himself, drawn to the water and having to connect with the spirit inside him. He would sneak off to an area far away from the others and practice alone. For a few years no one noticed, and he lived his double life happily. 

One day when he was nine, the Fire Nation ships docked at his Tribe’s home. A violent raid ensued; someone passing by had tipped the solders off to the existence of a waterbender for a bribe. Their father was out hunting, and when the soldiers had burst into their tent demanding a waterbender, their mother had thrown herself at them, claiming to be the one.

Jaehyun had held Jaemin back, the two hidden behind a cabinet where their mother had pushed them. Jaemin didn’t understand what was going on, he just saw the silent tears pouring down his elder brother’s face and felt sick.

By the time the hunters got back, the Fire Nation was gone, and so was their mother.

While Jaemin still blamed himself for his mother’s death, he knew Jaehyun didn’t at all. Jaehyun keenly hated the Fire Nation, and only them. But he did wish that his younger brother would have a little more sense of self-preservation, not only for himself but for the safety of the tribe.

Three years later, their father and the other men of the Southern Water Tribe left to aid the Earth Kingdom in the Hundred Year War against the Fire Nation. As his father before him, Jaehyun was now a minor chieftan at only age fifteen. Jaehyun had come into the role fully prepared, having loved all his father had to teach about leading and hunting. He had his mother’s rare blonde hair and was extremely handsome, and everyone loved him.

He rather believed it had all gone a bit to Jaehyun’s head.

Jaemin looks more like the rest of the tribe, with darker skin, dark hair and blue eyes, but keeps more to himself. He isn’t shunned by any means. He is as beautiful as Jaehyun, albeit differently, and his smile is enough to charm anyone. Jaemin makes use of his charisma when he has to, but for the most part prefers to keep to himself, not for social reasons. He just can’t bear to be around people who have no desire for something _more_, something not here. A life that doesn’t suffocate him.

Jaemin had spent his whole life believing in the stories of the avatar that his mother had whispered to them before bed each night- tales of an airbender who could master all four elements and save them all. Honestly, he didn’t truly know what Jaehyun did and didn’t believe. While Jaemin himself still had hope, Jaehyun had claimed to stop believing the stories once their father had gone, and he told Jaemin to stop believing in fairy tales and face their reality.

Suddenly their canoe gets pulled into a sharp current, and the two quit their bickering to paddle urgently against the water, but their efforts are all for naught as they crash into a large block of ice. They fly into the air and land hard on a flat piece of ice big enough for both their bodies.

“Now you’ve done it,” Jaehyun mutters.

“I tried to redirect the current! Better than just your weak paddling!”

“Maybe if you thought you could’ve done so much better than you should’ve ‘waterbended’ us out,” Jaehyun says sarcastically, making quote marks with his fingers. “I knew I should’ve left you home! This is what I get for not forcing you to let go of this nonsense like everyone else-”

“How the fuck is this my fault?”

“It’s _always_ your fault.”

Jaemin gets to his feet angrily. “You sound so _immature_!”

Jaehyun sticks out his tongue. “Not as much as you are.”

“No! I work hard too!” Jaemin raises his arms in frustration, and cracks begin to form in the giant wall of ice. “You barely do anything even remotely domestic, I do all the washing, I’m the one who does the cooking-”

“I cook too.”

“ONCE A YEAR!” Jaemin thunders, waving his arms about further. “You think just because you’re the older one, because you’re some _big tough warrior_ that you’re better than me! Well you’re not! In fact, you’re pretty LAZY!”

With every word, the cracks grow larger, trailing up the massive iceberg, the wind whipping about harshly and waves violently stirring around them, but Jaemin is so worked up he hardly notices.

“Okay! Okay!” Jaehyun yelps, watching as the crack splits all the way up the ice. “Your waterbending is great! I love it!”

“You don’t think I know you’re trying to shut me up? Well guess what-”

A resounding grumble sounds from behind them, and Jaemin spins around. He gapes up at the ice in shock, gasping as it completely splits in half and crashes into the ocean. The impact sends the ice that the two boys are lying on flying away, clinging for dear life.

They come to a halt, and Jaehyun stares ahead flatly. “You were saying.”

Jaemin isn’t listening. His eyes are shining as he gazes at the wreckage he caused, a brilliant smile on his face. “I did that?”

“Yep.”

“I did that!” He pumps a fist in the air. “I can’t believe I moved something so big!”

Jaehyun face palms.

Under Jaemin’s gaze, a glowing light appears from the depths of the dark waters. He realises it is a giant rounded iceberg, and the two boys stare in awe as it rises above the surface and floats. He frowns as he sees a shape in side of it, and is only more confused to see that it looks human. “What do you think-”

The figure’s eyes burst open, emitting a harsh light visible straight through the ice. The brothers gasp.

“We have to help him!” Jaemin says immediately, taking his stick and running toward the iceberg.

“Nana, no!”

Ignoring his brother’s plea, Jaemin begins whacking at the ice. After a few hard strikes, the ice shatters, and they cling together as a mist appears… and then a boy, eyes and strange marks on his body still glowing.

“Stop!” Jaehyun yells, spear pointed.

The boy loses his light and collapses, tumbling down the ice. Jaemin runs for him, catching him carefully. He turns the boy over, waiting for the boy to open his eyes.

“Hello?” Jaemin asks tentatively.

The boy shrieks and leaps into the air, at least ten metres up.

Jaehyun and Jaemin stare in shock, waiting for the boy to come back down. Instead, he dashes back into the iceberg. Jaemin sprints after him, heedless of Jaehyun’s yelling to come back.

They come face to face with a giant white fluffy creature, its tongue hanging out, happy as it plays with the boy. Jaemin watches open-mouthed, while Jaehyun looks tired.

“Sorry, sorry,” the boy says. He zips toward them and extends his hand. “I’m Yangyang, and this is Hutong, my flying bison.”

“I’m Jaehyun, and this is my flying brother Jaemin.”

If Yangyang senses the elder boy’s sarcasm, he doesn’t show it. “Nice to meet you!”

Jaemin gasps, realising what the boy is. “You’re an airbender!”

“I’ve had enough of this,” Jaehyun says. He turns around and walks to the edge of the ice, then remembers the loss of his boat. He sighs.

Yangyang smiles brightly. “Hutong and I can give you a lift!”

“No” says Jaehyun just as Jaemin squeals, “yes! Yes!”

They spend the next day together. Jaemin shows Yangyang around his home, and introduces him to everyone. While Jaehyun tries his hardest to keep the tribe in line, Jaemin takes Yangyang to an abandoned fire nation war ship.

“I have friends in the fire nation,” Yangyang says confusedly, taking in the confronting nature of the ship. “I’ve never heard of any war.”

Jaemin pauses. “No war? Not at all?”

Yangyang shakes his head.

Jaemin’s brain ticks in thought. _As impossible as it sounds, could it be? _

“What?”

“Yangyang,” Jaemin says carefully, “I think you’re over a hundred years old.”

“WHAT? Do I look like an old man to you?”

“Well, think about it. If you don’t remember any of this, then surely you have to have come from a time before that?”

Yangyang ponders this. “I guess you’re right. But how?”

“Somehow your powers must have protected you from it. We’ll figure it out.”

Yangyang returns Jaemin’s smile. “Yeah!”

They continue through the ship, looking at different things every so often. When they go to exit from one door, it locks in place.

“Uh.”

“Maybe if I-”

Jaemin yanks on the door, and suddenly a towering flare of light shoots up and out of the ship. “Ah, shit.”

Upon their return, the two are met with an angry crowd of the tribe, Jaehyun at the head of it. He moves forward accusatorily. “You’re a spy for the Fire Nation! You sent that flare up on purpose!”

Yangyang bobs timidly behind Jaemin. “No! I swear!”

“I accidentally set it off!”

The tribe turns their glare on Jaemin, but he just his chin out defiantly. “It was an accident. Yangyang isn’t a spy!”

Jaehyun brushes this aside. “You need to leave. Now!”

“No!” Jaemin begins, only to be cut off by the ground shaking beneath him.

Everyone watches the ground, wondering what the movement means, when a black ship appears, ominously sailing toward them between the walls of ice around their home.

“FIRE NATION!”

The shout sends a jolt of panic down Jaemin’s spine. Jaehyun freezes beside him, the sheer fear in his face telling Jaemin his mind has transported him back to the day their mother was taken.

The tribe members begin running around in panic, scooping up their children and running to their tents. Several of them shout angrily at the three of them as they dash past.

“How could you let him come here?” An elderly woman yells at Jaehyun, hands on her hips as chaos ensues around her. “After what happened to your mother you would dare be so stupid as to invite a _bender_ into our home?”

She spits the word ‘bender’ out like it’s something filthy, and Jaemin’s breath hitches in his throat. He threads his arm through his brother’s and waves for Yangyang, but the younger boy is frozen in place gazing up at the massive black ship crashing into the ice in front of him.

At the helm, flanked by a weaponised line of soldiers, stands a beautiful man, face marred by a long burn mark across half his face. His black hair is tied back in a bun atop his head, and he surveys the scene before him with a satisfied smirk.

Jaemin recognises him from an old photo in a paper shown to him by a traveller. The photo was from three years earlier, but the same unrestrained fire exudes from the man ahead of him now.

The Fire Nation’s Crown Prince, Nakamoto Yuta.

Yuta doesn’t bother stepping down from his ship, just signals for his men to attack. As they file off the ship, the water tribe members begin to scream in fear.

Yuta leaps without warning off the ship, racing towards Yangyang. Flames fly from his palms, and Yangyang does his best to fight back, deflecting the fire with his glider and flitting about swiftly. They fight like this for a few minutes, until Yuta knocks Yangyang into the water.

Yangyang flails about under Yuta’s cruel smirk, gasping and reaching out for something to hold on to.

_He can’t swim_, Jaemin realises. “Help him!”

Before anyone has time to move, the water around Yangyang begins to move rapidly, forming a ball around him like the one Jaemin had found him in. He rises up, cross legged and borne by air and water, then falls to the ice beside Jaemin.

Jaemin then summons all his willpower and manages to break the ice, severing them from the soldiers. He takes off running, Yuta’s screams of frustration filling his ears while he pulls Yangyang to his feet. “Where is the bison, Yangyang? QUICK!”

“She was sleeping past a small igloo that wasn’t near your tents, I think it as this way…”

“No,” Jaehyun switches direction, and they follow him instantly, “you mean Taeyong’s place, it’s this way.”

Apparently the Southern Tribe’s Chieftan had no clue that his people were under attack. Lee Taeyong sits silently in the middle of his igloo, clothed loosely in a pale blue shirt and brown pants that made Yangyang shiver just watching him.

He is beautiful; skin smooth like a porcelain doll, hair a shade of silvery blue so light it’s close to white. His palms rest on his thighs as he sits cross legged on a patterned rug, looking so at peace it feels rude to disturb him.

_But this is an emergency_, Yangyang reasons. He bows politely. “Water Tribe leader, we need your help.”

Taeyong cracks an eye open. “And who might you be?”

“He’s the avatar!” Jaemin says excitedly.

“I asked _him_, Nana,” Taeyong says gently.

Jaemin lowers his head and steps back, allowing Yangyang to continue.

“I am Yangyang,” Yangyang announces. “I’m an airbender, and right now I would be grateful for your help in escaping the Fire Nation soldiers.”

The leader shoots to his feet. “The Fire Nation are here?”

Yangyang nods sadly. “I have to leave quickly, and Jaemin would like to come with me to help.”

“Nana?”

Jaemin winces under his leader’s gaze. He isn’t scared of Taeyong by any means. In fact, Taeyong is the nicest and most caring person he knows. He’d constantly let Jaemin bend the tribe rules and skip out on training or hunting to allow the younger to cultivate his waterbending skills. Like the rest of the tribe, Taeyong had followed their fathers’ orders to cease waterbending and focus on learning fighting skills and hunting to survive without drawing the Fire Nation’s attention, but he’d seen Jaemin’s passion and let him practice alone.

Had anyone else been the one to allow Jaemin such an out, Jaehyun would have said something. Taeyong’s father was the previous Head Chieftan, but Jaehyun and Jaemin’s father had been a minor chief, and the top warrior and best hunter. Jaehyun had a lot of sway in the tribe and was quite strict about enforcing rules, wanting to live up to his father’s expectations, and had he not always been a little in love with Taeyong, then Jaemin’s bending would have left him too.

For Jaemin to request to leave on a mission is something completely foreign to the water tribe, and they both know it.

“It’s ridiculous,” Jaehyun steps forward and bows. “We don’t even know this kid. Our people come first and he should leave before anyone gets hurt.”

Yangyang drops his head in apology, but Taeyong shakes his head.

“The soldiers are already coming,” he says calmly in the way he always speaks. “This is our fate. It’s written in the scrolls, we just locked them away so we wouldn’t have to face the harshness that will come. Jaemin you must go.”

Jaemin brightens immediately, as does Yangyang.

“They’re far too young to go alone!”

Taeyong nods. “That is why you must go with them.”

Jaehyun splutters. “No, I can’t- this is my home-”

The chief takes a sack and begins filling it with food and bottles of water, when the curtain door is thrust aside and a soldier stands before them.

A long bladed sword rests threateningly in his grip, and the imposing red and black uniform he wears would be much more intimidating if Jaemin couldn’t see his youthful and slightly fearful face underneath his helmet.

“Surrender to the Fire Nation!”

Jaemin doesn’t waste time thinking; in a split second he draws the water from one of Taeyong’s open bottles and sends it right towards the boy’s hands, freezing them together. He dashes forward to cover the boy’s mouth before he can yell, grateful to be around the same height even though the soldier has a more solid figure than himself.

Taeyong scoops up the sack. “Leave, now.”

They run outside, following Yangyang’s lead.

“Where is Hutong?” Jaemin demands breathily, running hard to keep up with the other two whilst dragging the resisting soldier along with him.

“Just there!”

The bison hears her master’s voice and stands up, shuffling cluelessly toward them.

“Good girl! Good girl!” Yangyang shouts, climbing nimbly up her side. He waves the others up, and it takes all three of them to push the soldier into the saddle. Jaemin climbs up the ladder hanging over the side and waits for his brother.

“Taeyong, I can’t leave,” Jaehyun begs from his place on the ladder, even though he knows the older boy has made up his mind. “I need to do this for my father- I _promised_ him to take care of everyone-”

Taeyong cups his cheek gently. “And you are,” he says quietly, firmly. “I need you to do this for me.”

“But I want to do this _with_ you,” Jaehyun’s voice breaks, and Taeyong feels something break in him too. “Taeyong, I-”

“HELP! HELP! OVER HERE!”

The soldier waves wildly at three soldiers in the distance, having melted through his restraints while Jaemin was busy watching the older boys. He curses in annoyance and throws the boy’s blade overboard before he can grab him while shooting more ice at his wrists.

“JENO!” One soldier yells, a little faster than the other two.

“You need to go,” Taeyong urges, adjusting Jaehyun’s fur collar around his neck. He pushes a small package into his hands. “Take care of them, we’ll be waiting for you.”

“Taeyong-”

The tribe chief pats the bison’s side and shouts up to Yangyang. “Go!”

Jaemin reaches under his brother’s arms and tugs him into the saddle, chest heaving with exertion and the stress from the proximity of the soldiers.

“Stop right there!”

Three soldiers are gaining on them fast, bows in their hands with flaming arrows ready to fire. The boys stare helplessly down at their leader, shouting for him to run even thought it would be pointless.

Taeyong ignores their shouts, knowing he can’t outrun them. “Stay safe!” He calls out, smiling sweetly at them even as the soldiers reach him and pull his hands behind his back, forcing him roughly to his knees.

Taeyong’s name falls over and over from Jaehyun’s lips as he leans over the saddle as if to jump off, and Jaemin rushes with a shriek to grab him and yank him to his chest amidst Yangyang’s yell to his bison to take off.

Hutong launches off the ice, and the bison moans in pain when some of the soldiers’ fireballs hit her, the flames small but still burning. Tears form in Yangyang’s eyes and he leans down and presses a reassuring kiss to her woolly head while shirking the reins to speed her up. He tries his best to trap the fireballs in air currents, satisfied when he manages to redirect one back to the soldiers.

Below them Taeyong’s silver blue hair whips around his face, still looking up at them with a hopeful smile. Jaehyun’s face crumples when they fly past a wall of ice, leaving their leader behind for good.

Yangyang seemed to be steering Hutong low to the ground for now, floating just above her head and keeping an eye out in all directions for lone Fire Nation ships or soldiers.

The soldier- Jeno- fumes quietly beside Jaemin, concentrating hard on his wrists, clearly intent on melting the ice cuffs off once more, although Jaemin can’t imagine where he thinks he’s going from twenty metres in the air.

“If you’re so desperate to get off I can just throw you over,” Jaehyun spits viciously, eyes like lasers.

Jeno freezes instantly.

“Shut up,” Jaemin snaps. “If you hadn’t taken so long trying to profess your love for Taeyong maybe we could’ve had time to drop him off somewhere.”

Jaehyun rears back in pure shock. “How can you blame me when he is the reason any of us are in this mess!”

He points angrily at Yangyang, who cringes and turns sheepishly back to guiding Hutong.

“Or this fucking coloniser!” Jaehyun whirls on Jeno, now shaking his finger at him. The soldier doesn’t so much as flinch when he continues, “it’s their kind who do this! We were safe, we were okay! And now I’m gone, the only warrior left- why didn’t you check the ice? You could’ve used rope but you just wanted to flex your useless bending once again!”

Jaemin vaguely registers the airbender coughing awkwardly behind him and wishes Taeyong hadn’t pushed his brother to come with them.

“At least I was able to do anything,” he snarls. “Clearly your precious warrior skills didn’t do any better than my bending.”

His tone is much harsher than any he’s ever spoken to Jaehyun with, and the older boy falls silent.

Jaemin turns his attention to Jeno, who has been visibly tensing more the higher they get. He suspects the young soldier has a fear of heights, but one glance at Jeno’s face tells him not to ask.

A sharp wind hits as Hutong continues upwards, and Jeno screws his eyes shut, hands tremoring above his thighs. Without thinking, Jaemin reaches over and takes his hand.

Jeno clutches it tightly, and Jaemin lets the soldier bury his face into his shoulder, content to let him cope as best he can while Jaemin settles into a happy state, enjoying Yangyang’s constant chatter about anything and everything.

Upon reaching a certain height, Yangyang tightens the reins and Hutong ceases to ascend, adapting a slower pace as she flies straight ahead.

Jeno senses the change and sits up, eyes darting nervously as he takes in the blue sky and clouds surrounding him in every direction. He registers his hand still in Jaemin’s and wrenches it away, lip curling in disgust, before scrambling to the opposite seat beside Jaehyun, where he squashes himself tightly into the side.

Jaemin shrugs, and receives a flipping off in response.

Yangyang turns around from his perch atop Hutong’s head, one hand still loosely holding the reins. He tilts his head. “Are you crying?”

Jaemin follows his gaze to Jaehyun who glares defiantly back at them, arms crossed over his chest. His blonde hair is mussed from the wind and running his hands through it, and his nose and cheeks are flushed pink- from rage, crying or cold Jaemin doesn’t know; perhaps all three.

“What happened to ‘warriors don’t cry’?”

His brother had always made a point of saying this to him each time he hurt himself during their training. Jaemin didn’t think himself much of a sadist, but right now he can’t feel any sympathy for the older boy. He feels too caught up in the excitement of leaving the only place he’s ever known, his home that he loves but has always felt suffocated by. Leaving meant a chance to discover himself, to further his own abilities- to listen to himself, rather than his tribe’s rigid rules.

Jaehyun says nothing. He wipes his tears brusquely and sets his jaw, then turns away to watch his home as it slowly becomes just another speck of ice in the distance.


	2. fire with fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> things are heating up in the fire nation :))

**Fire Nation **

_The Capital, Royal Palace_

“It isn’t enough to be quick on your feet,” Sicheng says sharply. He smacks his cane across the back of Yuta’s legs. “You have to be quick of mind.”

The prince grunts in annoyance, feeling his temper flare up. Years of training under those his father employed had done little to help Yuta’s anger issues since childhood; the majority of his firebending teachers believing the key to true power to be rage and violence.

Sicheng believed otherwise.

Since childhood, Dong Sicheng had been the best of all the young benders. The son of the governor of New Ozai, Sicheng had attended the Royal Fire Academy alongside the prince and princess since age four. Two years younger than Yuta, their paths should never have crossed, but Sicheng’s skills were brilliant where Yuta’s were failing, and they ended up in the same classes. The past few years Sicheng had done his best to undo the instructors’ teachings with his own methods, having faith that even now- at age twenty three- Yuta would be able to turn his ways around.

Their friendship had always been odd. Where Yuta was outspoken and snappy, Sicheng was reserved; he was the one person who remained unruffled by the prince’s outbursts, aside from their other close friend, Ten.

Adding the second prince- Yuta’s younger brother, Jisung- into the mix, the four of them had been inseparable almost the entirety of their lives.

“You need to control your temper.”

“I’M TRYING!” Yuta screams, and flames fly from his hands to the lowest branch of the maple tree across the yard.

Sicheng watches the leaves shrivel up under the fire’s touch. “We’ll try again tomorrow.”

“NO! Today!” Yuta draws his sword, the silver glinting under the lantern lights hung from the trees and wall. “When will you stop putting everything off? Pushing it back? You know what capturing the avatar means for me and yet when we finally find him you tell me not to go after him!”

He thinks back to their time less than a week ago, aboard his ship as the flare that alerted them to the avatar’s presence shot up from the abandoned Fire Nation warship. They had been playing a game of pai sho, Sicheng’s favourite. Yuta had been distracted the entire game, not one for strategic activities of any kind.

The flare had renewed his energy, and he’d immediately ordered the ship to sail straight for it. Sicheng had simply said it wasn’t the right time, and wanted to continue on with his game. Even as Yuta left the ship with his soldiers, the younger man had remained aboard, drinking tea peacefully as he waited.

It drove Yuta mad.

“I told you, you weren’t ready to capture the avatar,” Sicheng says, lunging forward with his sword pointed at Yuta’s chest. “And I was right. You haven’t reached the physical or cognitive level to compete with such power.”

Yuta blocks his jab. “He’s a child!”

“A powerful one,” Sicheng counters, “one that still out bested you.”

“With help,” Yuta snarls, knocking aside the younger’s sword. He seizes the front of Sicheng’s robes and pulls him flush to his chest.

Sicheng raises his chin defiantly. “As you would be nowhere without my help.”

A knife sings through the air and slices through the centimetre of space between them, slamming into the bamboo wall behind them. Yuta jumps back with a hiss; Sicheng pins the newcomer with a bored stare.

“Cut it out.”

Yuta glares and crosses his arms across his chest. “What do you want, Ten?”

“Just one day without you two at each other’s throats is all I ask.”

“Any other bullshit you’d like to add?”

“Fuck the tension out of yourselves so we can move on,” Ten says brusquely, heedless of Yuta’s gagging. “I’m tired of being stuck in the middle of this.” He snaps his fingers. “Ah. Jisung wants us to meet with him before dinner. Come to the gallery. You have fifteen minutes.”

He spins around and flips his cape behind him with a flourish, then slips back through the curtains.

The two stand in silence for a moment, until Yuta orders, “get out.”

Sicheng exits wordlessly, and Yuta rips his robes open, shrugging them off. He kicks them across the floor and walks to the small bath house for the training area, eyeing the in-ground bath with irritation at the knowledge that fifteen minutes is not enough to use it right now.

He settles instead for the bowls of scented water left by the servants on the stone benchtop. Splashing the water over his face isn’t satisfying enough after the intense workout he’s been through the past four hours.

He’ll take a bath after dinner.

When Yuta enters the Royal Gallery two minutes earlier than called, he feels both gratitude and fear in a matter of seconds. Sicheng stands closest to the door, and he catches Yuta’s eye as the prince arrives, before returning his attention to the other people in the room.

His father is here, standing beneath the painting of himself amongst the portraits of all the past fire lords. Yuta briefly contemplates that he can’t remember the last time he saw his father standing and not on his throne, but quickly brushes the thought away in favour of bowing deeply.

“Father,” Yuta says, tone wavering. He clears his throat and clenches his fists at his sides nervously. “I thought I was meeting with my brother.”

He glances at the younger prince who returns his look with a sly smile. Jisung stands proudly beside the Fire Lord, and Ten stands next to him, albeit slightly behind.

“You _hoped_.”

Yuta’s breath hitches in his throat as his father steps forward, arm raised to strike.

“Your only task in life- _your only purpose_\- is to catch the avatar,” the Fire Lord snarls. “I allowed you back into this palace upon your brother’s request after these fruitless years with no sight of the avatar. I lifted your banishment over a year ago with the promise that you would capture him as soon as you found him. And yet, you have already faced him, and dared to return home with nothing. Did the punishment burned into your face teach you nothing?”

Yuta bows again, deeper, fearfully, hands braced against his knees. He itches to trace the scar across his face but resists. “Father, I will capture him. I will find him, capture him, and kill him. I promise.”

The Fire Lord lowers his hand. “You will, yes.” He grabs a fistful of his son’s hair and yanks him upwards, bringing them face to face. “Because as of right now, you are banished once more, this time for good until you end the avatar’s life.”

“Yes, father.”

“You have tonight to stay here. If you are not gone by morning, I’ll end your life myself.”

“Yes, father,” Yuta repeats, nodding. His heart rate does not slow down even as his father lets him go.

The Fire Lord turns to the rest. “Let’s make our way to the dining hall, shall we?”

Ten smiles brightly. “Thank you for visiting us, Fire Lord.”

They bow except for Jisung, who smiles sweetly as their father pats his head fondly and leaves.

Yuta whips around. “Are you trying to set me up?”

Jisung spreads his palms, feigning innocence. “Father mentioned that he wanted to see you. Who am I to do deny him a visit with his son?”

“I’ve decided I no longer have an appetite. I’ll eat in my rooms.”

He tries to pass through the door, but Jisung latches onto his arm, nails in his skin like claws. “No,” the younger prince smiles coldly, “this is your final night in the palace. You’ll dine with the rest of us.”

Yuta meets his eyes fiercely but says nothing. He stands still as Jisung shoves past him, Ten on his heels, shrugging as if to say _what can I do_ when the prince glares at him.

“FUCK!” Flames lick at Yuta’s palms, but before he can set fire to any of the irreplaceable portraits in the room Sicheng grabs his wrists from behind him, breath hot on Yuta’s neck.

“You think that after those threats your father would let such an act slide?” Sicheng whispers fiercely. He squeezes his thumbs down on the pressure points of Yuta’s wrists, causing the elder to squirm under his grip. His lips brush the shell of Yuta’s ear. “This banishment gives you a chance to gain your own power. This is time with only the two of us, no eyes on you, nothing to distract. Control. Learn it. You can listen to me or you can spend your time on your knees, degrading yourself into another mindless toy soldier groveling on your knees at the Fire Lord’s every beck and call. Or you can become something greater. Make your decision. My patience is running out.”

Yuta blinks, taking a moment to digest Sicheng’s words. He asks tentatively, “you’re coming with me?”

Sicheng pauses in the doorway, studying the elder. He gives him a look Yuta cannot decipher. “Come on.”

Yuta lets out a deep breath, surprise and relief washing over him. He nods and follows the younger out of the gallery and toward the long hall to the dining room. With its deep red carpet and walls the journey from room to room is always somewhat suffocating for Yuta. He studies the intricate details of the gold paneling, the only brightness to detract from the sinister feeling.

“I could have you caned for speaking to me this way.”

Never mind that the younger has never minced words with him, that the small yet gradual improvement in his bending skills and making clear-headed decisions came to him as a result of Sicheng’s unyielding persistence. Never mind that if he was being honest, he didn’t really have the time to make threats. But Sicheng has always humoured him this way.

He eyes the younger’s back, disappointed to see no evidence of tension at his threat. Perhaps he’s cried wolf too many times.

Sicheng doesn’t bother turning to face him.

“You won’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> any kudos and comments are appreciated <333


	3. cabbages and kings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> within the walls of ba sing se ; johnny is stuck with lumark nonsense

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> um hello im back so soon but i probably won't be (??) after this until the end of next week because of uni but i wanted to get this out so here it is um enjoy x

**Earth Kingdom **

_Ba Sing Se _

The relentless heat in the Capital by day can be unbearable on its worst days, but by evening, as the sun sinks below the horizon, there comes a warm breeze that settles over the city like a comforting blanket.

Qian Kun leans back from his seat on the small wooden bridge to catch the last of the orange and pink sky as nightfall comes. The wind softly caresses the back of his neck and plays with his dark hair, locks that had spent the day carefully arranged as he sat in court by his father’s side, listening to all kinds of proposals from nobles and lay people alike.

His loose tan slacks are rolled up to his knees to keep them from getting wet as his legs hang off the bridge to cool in the water below. Having discarded his official robes, Kun wears only his deep green undershirt now, unbuttoned halfway down the front and hanging loosely at the edge of his shoulders. He plays absently with a lily pad, thumbing the petals softly, appreciating the texture.

No one knows of this place, this secret garden of his. No one alive, at least. Since his mother’s death eighteen years ago, this wing of the palace had become a much quieter place. As a child, Kun played in this garden with his mother and father, a place for just the three of them. It directly backed off of Kun’s quarters, built for him as his own private nursery. After his mother passed away, Kun’s father closed it off, and never spoke of it again, forgetting its existence as time went by.

Kun himself created a new door for the garden, one much smaller than the original, and far less fancy. The seven year old prince had not considered that one day he would grow taller, and nowadays he has to stoop quite low to enter the circular wooden gate. The ivy woven over the door is so tangled and overgrown that unless you were looking for it you would never find it.

At the end of the balcony that runs round the entirety of Kun’s quarters, there is a small trapdoor built in, one that leads to an in-ground elevator that passes fourteen floors to arrive at ground level. From there, a red canoe waits to make the quick journey underneath the bridge and under the wall to reach the garden itself.

It is a fairly large space, enough for a bridge, two small shrines, a stone temple and a beautifully constructed pavilion directly across from where sits now. Lotus trees are planted everywhere throughout the garden, white and pale pink petals in full bloom this time of year. The water- cool and inviting, Kun’s favourite shade of green- ripples out from the waterfall cascading down to his left. Every so often one of the orange and white fish flitting through the water will brush by him, causing him to jerk in surprise and then laughter.

No one entered Kun’s quarters anymore, save for his best friend and the routine guard checkups conducted every so often as a mandatory rule. The royal palace is a giant piece of architecture, beginning in the heart of the city and branching out to its edge; for the great height it reaches skyward there is an equal amount deep underground.

Because of the magnitude of the place, a wall constructed completely around the prince’s quarters was not something that drew any attention; being already at the city’s edge no one was aware of where the prince would live within the palace. After the king’s decision to wall off the entire city to protect the kingdom from the Fire Nation’s relentless advances, there had been even less of a reason for anyone to notice anything.

Kun waits until the sun disappears before getting to his feet with a sigh. He climbs into his canoe and begins paddling back under the bridge to the passageway, wishing he could stay out all night.

As he leans over to tie up the boat, the canoe capsizes without warning, flipping him straight into the water.

“Shit,” Kun spits out, shaking himself like a dog as he tips the canoe upright once more. With a groan, he hauls himself out of the water and flops onto the concrete. He gets to his feet and wrings out his clothes, stepping into the elevator sourly.

By the time Kun reaches his floor, he already feels a little dryer, albeit a bit soppy. He pushes the trapdoor upwards and crawls onto the balcony, still trying to get rid of any excess water before walking into his bedroom.

“Hey, Kun!”

“Ah!” Kun jumps, hand to his heart. “I didn’t expect you tonight.”

Sitting on the wooden bench in Kun’s drawing room is his best friend Johnny, grinning as he always does whenever he gives the younger man a scare.

The two of them first met at a bending competition ten years ago. Kun was not allowed to compete- he never was- but he had convinced his father to let him out with just one guard in order to attend. Miraculously, Kun had been given permission, and he was so enthralled by Johnny’s amazing abilities that he had requested to meet the elder afterwards.

At just fourteen, Johnny was one of the only earthbenders known to have the sub-skill of lavabending, as well as proficiently mastering skills in relation to sand, mud and metalbending. To have more than one sub-skill was almost unheard of, and only two years later Johnny became the youngest earthbending instructor in the Earth Kingdom’s known history.

After meeting, the two had become firm friends, connecting with each other from the get-go. The only problem was, Kun was never allowed friends or visitors, and without any means of communication it meant that sometimes they wouldn’t see each other for long periods of time.

Luckily for them, a cabbage merchant and self-professed astrologer named Moon Taeil happened to pass in and out of the palace regularly, and Johnny had begged him to relay messages between the two when he could. With Taeil’s help and the boys becoming more daring and willing to sneak in and out themselves, their friendship grew much stronger over the years, and Kun didn’t know where he’d be without the older boy’s help and kindness.

“What happened to you, man?” Johnny asks, eyebrow raised as he takes in the prince’s drenched appearance.

Kun runs a hand through his now curly dark hair. “Took a shower.”

“Uh huh,” Johnny replies, taking in the equally wet clothes, but doesn’t push it. He never does. “Anyway, I just thought I’d stop by to see you, given it’s been a week now without your face and I miss it.”

“Aw, you.”

Johnny blows Kun a kiss, which the prince catches and throws on the ground, stamping on it.

“I’m cut,” says Johnny, not looking very bothered. He claps his hands together. “I meant to tell you, Mark fully dropped out of his bender classes now.”

Kun knits his brows. “I knew he was attending them less often, but why quit? He’s at the top of his game.”

Johnny nods. “I asked him this morning. Lucas got him a full time job with him as a mechanist. They were fixing up some stuff in the Grand Bathhouse, although at the rate they were messing around I don’t know how long they’ll last.”

“Of course.”

“Mark’s family sent him here with the intention that he’d be able to make something of himself while they save up to move here, but they happened to be living in one of the villages the Fire Nation took over two months ago. The taxes the soldiers are forcing the villagers to pay are so high they can’t afford to eat properly while paying them, and they’ve outlawed earthbending to boot, which means many of the elders are not strong enough to work anymore. Mark is sending them any money he can.”

Kun grinds his teeth. “I’ve been working on a strategy for the past three months to usurp the Fire Lord’s control over our outer villagers but Father won’t let me present the idea.” He runs his fingers through still-wet hair, frustrated. “He doesn’t even let me speak past mentioning it to him, so he has no idea what I’m even going to say. He just repeats that the reason Ba Sing Se is known as the ‘impenetrable city’ is because we haven’t opened our walls for anyone, and with the fire nation taking hold of more villages lately we cannot afford to let anyone in or out at all.” 

Johnny frowns. “So those of us who didn’t make it in here must just live as bottom-class feeders in the Fire Nation permanently then.”

“If my father has anything to do with it, yes.”

Johnny gets to his feet. “I should go,” he says, somewhat apologetically. “I’m getting dinner with Mark and Lucas when they’ve finished their shifts. I guess it’s probably a long shot that you’d be allowed out?”

Kun snorts. “If only. But no, I have to go back to Father to meet with some general I’ve never heard of. These people… they’re turning our kingdom into something it isn’t.”

Johnny bites his lip, studying the worry in the prince’s expression sadly. He moves toward Kun and ruffles his hair lightly, fingers lingering in the younger man’s hair as he smiles down at him. “When the time comes, you’ll be the greatest king we’ve ever known.”

Kun shakes his head with a soft smile and waits until his friend leaves before making his way into his bedroom to change into another set of official robes.

He slips his shirt off and casts it onto the bed, then flops onto his back to stare up at the ceiling, figuring it won’t be the end of the world if he’s a few minutes late.

Thirty minutes after leaving the palace, Johnny reaches the Grand Bathhouse just as Mark and Lucas appear to be ending their shifts and receiving payment from the overseer. Even from the front doors Lucas’ booming laughter can be heard, followed by Mark’s more childlike giggling. Whatever joke Lucas happens to be telling, the overseer does not look nearly as impressed with it as Mark, but he smiles politely and sends the two boys on their way without fuss.

“YO, JOHNNY!”

Johnny puts his finger to his lips and face palms, wondering if they would ever find their indoor voices. He steps outside, not liking the anger all over the spa attendant’s face, and waits for the two to join him.

“Hey, man!” Lucas side hugs him instantly upon stepping outside. He looks around. “No Kun?”

“Nah, he has to attend another meeting.”

“Aw, that’s too bad,” Mark scrunches his nose. “Hopefully soon, maybe?”

He begins to speed up, noting the way Johnny and Lucas’ long legs are starting to leave him in the dust.

“Hopefully,” Johnny smiles.

The three set off for their favourite tavern, the city a bustle of noise and chatter in its busiest hour. School children dash around in little cliques, still in uniform due to exploring the markets instead of going straight home. The day workers switch shifts with the night workers, and merchants rush around attempting to sell their wares to anyone passing by.

“Stop right there.”

They turn to the direction of the voice to find their friend Taeil with a cabbage in hand, one finger pointed directly at them.

“Buy a cabbage,” he orders. “They’re fresh and business has been slow today. People will buy my cabbages if Johnny Seo does.”

“He has a point,” Mark comments.

Johnny rolls his eyes. “Fine. Only one.”

Taeil hums. “Make it two. They’re good.”

“But I don’t need two!”

“Buy two now or I’ll tell Kun you never want to see him again.”

Mark and Lucas gasp, eyes wide.

“What makes you think I won’t sneak into the palace again like I just did half an hour ago?”

Taeil glares, but brightens up immediately as Johnny takes some coins out of his pocket and hands them over.

“Give me a bag at least.”

“You know,” Taeil says, shoving the cabbages dramatically into netted sacks to make sure market-goers notice the Johnny-Seo-Bought-Cabbages, “If you really wanted to help out you could let me do a reading for you.”

Johnny waves the suggestion aside. “Don’t be daft. I don’t believe in that stars nonsense. No one actually _wants_ a reading.”

“I kind of want a reading,” says Mark, unhelpfully.

Lucas nods enthusiastically. “Me too!”

Taeil punches the air, triumphant. “See?”

“Okay, what do the stars have to say right now?” Johnny says sarcastically, waving his arm at the sky which- being rather early in the evening- did not yet have any stars present.

“They’re not awake right now but last night the stars told me that you were going to get drunk at the tavern after bending class without showering,” Taeil says matter-of-factly. He pinches the instructor’s robes gingerly and dramatically sniffs the air. “Smells about right.”

Mark snorts.

“I do this every week this is nothing new.”

Taeil humphs. “Then the stars were right now, weren’t they?”

Johnny rolls his eyes again. “And the stars told me you should stick to being a cabbage merchant,” he says good-naturedly, clapping the shorter man on the back. “One of these days you should join us, it’s been too long.”

“Soon,” Taeil promises with a grin, waving already as he turns to a new customer who had been eyeing up the cabbages since Johnny bought them.

The tavern is alive with music, laughter and loud conversations spilling out the doors as Johnny, Lucas and Mark climb the stairs to enter. Once inside, the owner nods and points to their usual table in the corner, to the left of the front doors. Johnny always loves this table, with its window overlooking the street for him to look down into, enjoying the interesting life going on from a bird’s eye perspective.

Drinking before their food arrived was never a good idea- Mark being the massive lightweight that he is- but today the tavern is extra crowded, and the three decided to begin immediately. Here is one of the only places they can act as rowdily as they wish, and with their boisterous laughter and half-screamed jokes they make the most of it.

“Johnny,” Mark coughs out, helplessly giggling halfway through his third drink, “you’re so old, dude, you’re just so old.”

Johnny protests immediately. “I’m twenty four??”

“See, old and alone,” Lucas says somberly.

“So alone.”

Johnny studies their expressions. “Have you two… been discussing my life choices?”

“No,” Mark says as Lucas nods, “yes.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“Maybe you could switch jobs.” Lucas spreads his palms. “I’m just saying. I do it and I get laid all the time.”

Johnny squints. “I happen to _like_ my job.”

And he did, truly. He loves teaching and helping others hone their skills. Honestly he finds the entire experience very rewarding. Johnny knew what Lucas was getting at though; as much as Johnny enjoys his work, he doesn’t spend that much time with people his own age.

Lucas, by contrast, changed jobs like the weather. He’d left school one year before graduation, knowing that as smart as he was, he always felt more confident with his hands. The idea of working indoors and spending time inside all day was not one Lucas was fond of; being out and about suited him much better.

Since leaving school he’s worked as a miner, a tour guide, a monorail driver and now, a mechanist. Lucas generally preferred to take jobs that made use of his metalbending abilities- a skill he excelled at- but had confided to Mark recently that he wanted to see the inside of the palace and was going to going to ask his older brother Minho- a palace guard- for a way in.

Mark takes a swig of his beer. “Man, I can’t remember the last time you had a date, let alone sex.” He continues on, ignoring Johnny choking on his own drink. “Wasn’t it that Fire Nation official? She was pretty.”

Lucas grins. “No, that was me.”

They high five across the table.

“The waterbender then? That one who was here that last week before the wall restrictions went up last year?”

“To be honest, he kind of terrified me,” Johnny admits. “He was a bloodbender, actually.”

Mark wriggles his brows. “Freaky.”

“You’re missing the problem!” Lucas’ voice starts getting louder, and he waves his arms about wildly. “That’s still ALMOST A YEAR AGO! WITH NO SEX!”

Johnny grabs the back of Lucas’ neck and pins him down swiftly, the younger boy’s cheek flat against the table. “Would it kill you. To keep your big mouth. A little _less open_ in public for once?”

Mark giggles.

“I’ll try,” Lucas mumbles apologetically.

Johnny lets him up, spying the waitress making her way across the room with their food ready.

“Just know that if it ever gets too much I’ll do my best to help you out,” Lucas winks.

Mark bursts into laughter and Johnny raises his hand to smack Lucas’ head, but the younger boy is saved by the waitress’ arrival.

“I’ll end you,” Johnny mutters, then smiles up at the waitress to thank her for the meal.

Lucas responds by stuffing his mouth full of steaming hot dumplings and flashing a thumbs up.

They eat happily and order more drinks as the night passes on, and Johnny finds himself content to listen to the younger boys’ raucous laughter and nonsense as he watches the passengers of the monorail spill into the streets as the night market unfolds below.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'd just like to clarify, most of the boys are not actually fixed exactly to any characters from the show, or for the ones who are right now, they may not develop the same way; they may be better or worse people depending on where i go with it 
> 
> briefly, they kind of match to:
> 
> yangyang: aang 
> 
> jaemin: katara 
> 
> yuta: zuko 
> 
> ten: ty lee, but with a streak of azula/mai
> 
> jisung: azula 
> 
> taeil: kind of the cabbage man but more important 
> 
> jaehyun: sokka // as jaemin's elder brother, his introduction is very similar, but their personalities won't be. i also have multiple vague ideas on what to do w jae's r/s status, so if u have a pairing in mind comment it i need help dfhhgf 
> 
> sicheng: his personality more closely matches mai, while his character is kind of mai and uncle iroh's roles mashed together. he won't necessarily take on either of their storylines aside from being present with yuta, and is very self-ambitious rather than doing everything for yuta's best interests
> 
> thus far, lucas, johnny, jeno, mark, taeyong and kun are completely original, i'm not sure about the others yet!
> 
> * also, a character may not be restricted to being involved with only one person in the story; so if ur interested in an pairings feel free to ask


	4. love is like the wind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> yangyang takes the boys on a tour of his home temple with dire unforeseen circumstances

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hiiii im back just busy with uni n now trying to pump out some updates! i have some shit due but rly want to work on a fire chapter asap so hopefully i'll be back soon <333

_Somewhere over the Southern Sea_

“Yangyang, I’m serious, how much farther?”

Jaemin smacks his brother on the arm. “Stop harassing him, why does it matter?”

Jaehyun glares. “Because I’m starving and it’s been almost fifteen hours since our last break from flying. Isn’t Hutong tired?”

He says the last part as a ploy to guilt Yangyang into landing, but it goes straight over the airbender’s head.

“Nope,” Yangyang calls cheerfully from his usual place up front, reins in hand. “Hutong can go a whole day without breaks. She’s really amazing like that!”

Jaehyun visibly droops.

“I’m sure we’ll be there soon,” Jaemin says, smiling brightly at Yangyang before resuming cloud watching. Beside him, Jeno is staring at the sea they fly over with a bored expression, presumably considering leaping to his death.

Yangyang reddens and turns back to the front.

“Aha,” Jaehyun says under his breath. He climbs over the saddle and along Hutong’s neck, gulping when he looks downwards at the huge space between himself and the sea below. He shuffles quickly onto Hutong’s head. “Boo.”

“Ah!” Yangyang shrieks, jumping in fright. “What are you doing?”

Jaehyun crosses his arms. “Land this thing now or I’ll tell Jaemin you keep making puppy eyes at him every time you think he isn’t looking.”

Yangyang blushes harder than before. “Shut up, I do not.”

“That wasn’t very convincing.”

“We _are_ almost there,” Yangyang ignores the older boy’s comment in favour of pointing ahead of him. “This is the Patola Mountain Range. The temple I grew up in is here.”

“Will there be food?”

Yangyang pretends to contemplate this. “Hmm… for me and Nana and Jeno, yes. But perhaps I’ll push you into the sea before we arrive.”

“Brat,” Jaehyun chokes out passionately, hastily scrambling back to the saddle.

Yangyang bursts into laughter.

“What’s going on?” Jaemin calls to them. “Jaehyun, why are you always annoying him?”

**Southern Air Temple**

_Patola Mountain Range_

Their landing is smooth as always, and the boys all climb down quickly, eager to find food. Yangyang hugs Hutong, promising to find her some food, and Jaemin watches him with a soft smile.

“Come on, guys!” Yangyang shouts enthusiastically. “I’ll give you a tour of my home!”

The young avatar runs off down a path, whooping and yelling for anyone to hear. He points out the trees he used to climb and the airball courts the airbenders play in. Jaemin follows him worriedly, the absence of other airbenders confirming the truth Yangyang wouldn’t accept: that the Fire Nation had already wiped out all the airbenders while Yangyang had been trapped in the ice.

He’d tried to address such a possibility on the flight here, but Yangyang wouldn’t have a bar of it. “How could Fire Nation soldiers make their way up to our sky temples?” The avatar had asked. “Nobody but us could fly, and only airbenders have sky bison.”

Jaemin hadn’t been able to answer him. Just the same, he knew what he’d heard, and he knew the Fire Nation. They’d find a way to do the unexplainable no matter what.

After close to an hour of searching but finding no airbenders, Yangyang’s mood begins to go rapidly downhill. On top of trying to placate the avatar, Jaemin is doing his best to keep Jaehyun quiet, his brother still desperate for food.

“Jaehyun, I swear to god, we will find something soon, but for now can’t you just help keep Yangyang happy?”

Jaehyun sighs. “Fine.” He waves at the avatar. “Yangyang, do you wanna teach me how to play airball?”

Given that airball is a ball sport played by using the skill of airbending, Yangyang defeats Jaehyun four games to nil, the latter suffering multiple hits to his body. When the last ball hits Jaehyun, Yangyang flits off again to once again seek out his friends.

“Nana, come here,” Jaehyun hisses, lying on the ground in snow.

Jaemin treads over to him.

“Look.”

Lying in the snow beside his brother is a Fire Nation soldier helmet, ancient and rusted, but still recognizable. Jaemin gasps.

“Nana?” Yangyang calls. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine,” Jaemin yells back, using his bending to quickly cover the helmet up. “Just didn’t realise how cold the snow is!”

Jaehyun shakes his head. “You shouldn’t hide something this serious from him.”

“I know. He’ll find out soon enough.”

“Hey! Come back!”

Yangyang sprints around the temple, weaving in and out of the surrounding trees.

Jaemin and Jaehyun hear the shouts and run toward him.

“Yangyang? What is it?”

Jaehyun pulls his boomerang from his vest. “Careful. It could be a Fire Nation soldier.”

They catch up to the avatar, who is breathing heavily and looking around frantically. “There’s someone here,” Yangyang insists, “I just saw them running.”

“You saw a person? Not heard?” Jaemin asks carefully.

Yangyang nods. “I saw the back of them. Wearing orange too. Like the airbender robes.”

Jaemin feels a stab of pain in his heart at the boy’s surety. He wonders if somehow Yangyang is hallucinating because they haven’t eaten in so long. “Well, let’s continue our tour of the temple. Perhaps we will come across them once more.”

They follow the avatar, and after ten minutes they turn around a corner to find a tall statue of an airbender monk. Yangyang bows deeply, then introduces them. “Jaehyun, Nana, this is Monk Tao. The man who raised me.”

_Yangyang bats his hands into the pastry on the table, listening disinterestedly to the older man speaking to him about his responsibilities as the avatar. _

_“Monk Tao? I don’t think I’m the avatar,” he says, still engrossed in making his fruit pies. “It can’t be me. I don’t have the personality for something so important. It’s boring to me.”_

_The monk watches him, eyes twinkling. “Yangyang, you’re young. It’s true, the prospect of the avatar’s role in our universe may seem daunting to you now, but you are the One. Although I think they shouldn’t have informed you of this until you reached age sixteen, you would still be the avatar no matter what. And when you’re old enough to live in the temple, someone will teach you everything you need to know.” _

_Yangyang digests all this silently, then breaks into a large smile. “Okay.”_

_He and Monk Tao begin airbending the pies out to those around the temple, and Yangyang cheekily sends the pies to land directly on the heads of the praying monks. The winged lemurs who live about the temple immediately pounce on the pies, eating off the monks’ heads. _

_Monk Tao smiles down at the young avatar. “Your aim is perfect, Master Yangyang.”_

“We need to go inside the temple,” Yangyang announces. “I was meant to find someone in there who can help me with my airbending.”

He marches toward the front doors purposefully, the two brothers trailing after him.

Jaemin glances around looking for Jeno, but still can’t see him anywhere. He’s beginning to wonder whether the soldier has already found a way to escape them, and is surprised to find his chest pang slightly at the idea.

He studies the giant doors in front of them, noting that they clearly haven’t been opened in a very long time. “Do you really think people could survive being in this temple for one hundred years with no one here to give them food?”

Yangyang shrugs. “I survived one hundred years in ice, remember?”

The avatar focuses on using his bending to spring open the complicated locks on the doors, and soon they creak and groan slowly open. The three step inside, and Yangyang sets off, undeterred by the freezing dark temple.

They come to the sanctuary within the temple, a room with hundreds of statues. Amidst Jaehyun’s complaints of there being no food, Jaemin and Yangyang study the statues.

“There’s a pattern to it all,” Jaemin claps his hands. He loops his arm through Yangyang’s, not noticing the airbender’s flushed cheeks, and points around them. “Look.”

Yangyang knits his brows, taking it all in. “You’re right,” he gasps. “They are all arranged in the Avatar Cycle.”

“And that is?” Jaehyun asks from behind them.

“Air, water, earth, fire,” Jaemin rapid-fires back. “I’ve told you this before, but of course you weren’t listening.”

Jaehyun sticks his tongue out, heedless of the fact that his brother isn’t even facing him.

“Yangyang… these are the previous incarnations of the Avatar. They’re you- your past lives.”

Yangyang stares glassily ahead, and Jaemin cannot tell whether he heard him or not. Tugging his arm from the waterbender’s, the avatar walks to the last of the line, eyes locked on the statue’s face.

Jaemin follows him and shakes him lightly. “Yangyang. Come back to me.”

Blinking, Yangyang turns back to Jaemin. “This is Avatar Chanyeol. He was the last avatar before me.”

“A firebender,” Jaehyun says, coming to stand beside the two. “The hair and those robes… untrustworthy.”

“No! He was a good man!”

“Okay, okay,” Jaehyun concedes, raising his palms. “Hey! What’s that?”

He points at something moving down the hall.

“It’s a lemur!” Yangyang shouts excitedly, Avatar Chanyeol forgotten. 

“I’m gonna cook it,” Jaehyun announces, practically salivating.

Jaemin rolls his eyes.

Yangyang looks horrified. “No way! I’m going to keep it as a pet!”

He dashes after the lemur, and Jaehyun prepares to chase him when Yangyang leaps straight out the window, fine to fly with his skills and staff.

“Argh!” Jaehyun runs back out the way they came, hoping to cut off the younger boy in the garden somewhere.

When he finally reaches the courtyard, Jaehyun makes his way out towards the fields he thinks the lemur leapt into, spotting Yangyang’s orange robes. The boy is crouched down, and Jaehyun bites his lip, approaching the younger boy slowly. “Yangyang? I wasn’t really gonna eat him you know-”

He stops still, staring in horror as he comes fully over the hill, face to face with a field littered with the corpses of Fire Nation soldiers and airbenders. Yangyang is face down on his knees beside one, and Jaehyun’s stomach drops when he realises this must be Monk Tao whom he has found.

“Yangyang-”

The avatar’s heads juts upwards, but his eyes and the tattoos over his head, hands and feet are glowing the same bright blue as they were when Yangyang first entered the Avatar State in front of Jaehyun, and the older boy is still just as scared as he was the first time.

He moves backwards, holding onto a tree as Yangyang begins to bend a windstorm around himself, the air around them turning freezing cold and resembling something of a mini hurricane, but decides not to leave the boy. “Jaemin, please hurry,” Jaehyun whispers, sending a silent prayer in the direction of the temple.

Fascinated by the statues and what they represent, Jaemin continues walking around the room, studying each one thoroughly. His happiness at the sight of the previous avatars from Water Tribes quickly subsides when he remembers his own reality, and the current ban on waterbending.

Jaemin peers into the eyes of Avatar Chanyeol. “I want to know more about you. Yangyang says you were a good man… so what went wrong?”

A brilliant light erupts from the statue’s eyes, and Jaemin stumbles backwards in fright. As the rest of the statues’ eyes begin to glow too, Jaemin realises something must be happening to Yangyang. He races back through the temple and out the doors, dashing left to the courtyard when he remembers the two chasing the lemur that way.

“Nana!”

Jaemin begins running, finding it hard to do so as a harsh wind whips around him, almost gale force. His brother’s voice carries over to him, and trying his best to use the large statues of past monks across the yard, Jaemin stops about ten metres from where Jaehyun stands wrapped around a tree.

“Jae, what is going on?”

“Yangyang found out the Fire Nation killed Monk Tao and the other airbenders!”

Jaemin closes his eyes, considering the situation. “I’m going to calm him down!” He shouts back.

Metres away, Yangyang begins to elevate high into the air, the wind forming a sphere around him. Jaemin walks toward him, arms up to protect himself from the strength of the winds.

“Yangyang, I know you think you’ve lost your family, but that isn’t true!” Jaemin shouts into the sky. “Jaehyun and I lost our mother years ago, and our dad is gone now too, but we have each other and you! You are part of our family now. I know it’s hard, but we’ll do anything for you. Just… please come back to us!”

The wind continues to whip fiercely around the avatar, but he sinks lower to the ground. Then the sphere knocks into a giant statue, and Yangyang is falling, the statue coming after him.

“NO!”

Jaemin sprints toward the avatar, urgency propelling him forward as the first statue crashes into a second in a domino effect, Yangyang still glowing and oblivious to the danger about to befall him. As the first statue falls, Jaemin shoves the airbender out of the way, letting out a sharp scream when the statue lands straight across his right leg.

“NANA!”

Jaehyun screams, running at full speed now to get to his brother.

Jaemin ceases struggling with the statue, knowing he isn’t strong enough lying down to push such a strong weight off. He closes his eyes, waiting for the second statue to crush him, when suddenly he feels lighter, and gasps as he’s jerked away only seconds before the stone carving falls where he was trapped.

The pain in his leg fully hits him and he passes out cold.

“Jaemin, Jaemin, look at me…”

He blinks, vision blurry, and takes in blonde hair and muscled arms. Jaemin registers a hand around his waist to keep him up and another cupping his face. He coughs weakly. “Where is Yangyang?”

“Safe. Jaehyun got to him and coaxed him fully out of the Avatar State.”

“I hope he’s not too upset about the statues falling.” Jaemin opens his eyes properly, only to be met with a reprimanding expression. He wonders if he’s dreaming, unable to fathom why the boy had returned and how he had come out of nowhere to save him.

“I think he was only worried about you.” Jeno sighs. “You really freaked your brother out. I thought he was going to have a heart attack.” He runs a hand through his hair, shaking his head. “Why didn’t you move?”

“I only needed to keep Yangyang alive,” Jaemin says sincerely. He shrugs. “I guess I’m not always quick enough on my feet.”

Jeno scowls. “You need to work on that.”

“So you do care.” Jaemin flutters his lashes annoyingly. “Toy Soldier Boy saved my life.”

“Ugh.”

Jaemin laughs at the other boy’s disgust. “Go help the others get ready.” He waves Jeno away, shaking his head when the firebender protests. “I’ve had enough of air temples for the moment. Just give me a minute alone, I can use my bending to heal my leg a little.”

“Jaemin, it’s broken.”

“You underestimate me.”

As they prepare to leave the temple, Jaemin waits up in the saddle. Jeno and Yangyang had each lifted him up, Jeno’s strength and Yangyang’s airbending making the ascent much easier than if Jaemin had tried to climb the ladder alone.

On the ground below, Jaehyun and Yangyang are just about to climb back up when the much sought after lemur appears out of nowhere and dashes over to drop a pile of fruit at their feet.

“Moon peaches,” Yangyang beams. “My favourite!”

Jaehyun drops to his knees, grabbing one and biting into it. He groans happily. “Finally!” Turning to the lemur, he bows. “I won’t try to eat you ever again.”

Yangyang angles his head to shout up at Jaemin. “The lemur is going to be the newest member of our family, okay Nana?”

Jaemin nods enthusiastically.

“Why don’t you name her, Jeno?”

Jeno blinks, clearly not expecting to be part of this family Yangyang speaks of. He watches the lemur with all her peaches for a moment, then clears his throat and offers hesitantly, “Momo?”

Yangyang claps his hands together approvingly. “Momo it is!”

Beside the avatar, Jaehyun goes to take another bite of the peach, only to find that the lemur has swiped it straight out of his grasp.

The younger three boys burst into laughter, Jaemin leaning over the side to see his brother’s face.

“Okay, on second thought, I might eat you after all-”

“NO WAY!”

“Is your leg okay?”

Jaemin glances up in surprise at the sound of the soldier’s voice.

Jeno isn’t looking at him, instead concernedly focused on the bandages wrapped round Jaemin’s leg.

“It’s okay,” Jaemin replies gratefully. “I’ve done as much as I can to repair the bone. It’s throbbing a bit, but that will pass.”

He keeps his eyes on Jeno, hoping to get him to talk a little. Across from them, Jaehyun lies curled up with Momo the lemur resting on his waist.

Jaemin smirks. _So much for eating it. _

He turns back to Jeno, finding the firebender looking up at him through long black lashes. Jeno looks away instantly.

_Progress_, Jaemin smiles.

Hutong soars higher, and Jaemin leans back in the saddle to gaze up at the midnight blue sky, entranced by the thousands of stars glittering above him. If he could just fall asleep to this view every night, Jaemin thinks he’d never want anything more.

As the last of the area surrounding the Southern Air Temple fades into darkness, Yangyang buries his face into Hutong’s fur, partially for comfort, partially to muffle his crying. Everything in the last twenty four hours was overwhelming: from facing the reality of the genocide in his home to his onset avatar state causing Jaemin to get hurt. Worst of all, the proof that he truly is the last airbender twists deeper into his heart with every breath he takes.

“Why couldn’t I just stay in the ice forever,” Yangyang mumbles into white fur.

Hutong shakes her head with a groan, as if to disagree.

“I know. I’m being a baby.”

He sits up straight, wiping the rest of the tears off his face and turns back to the others. Jaehyun isn’t quite visible from where Yangyang sits, but he can see Momo’s small figure. He notes Jaemin’s legs in the sleeping soldier’s lap with a feeling of annoyance which instantly dissipates when he sees Jaemin, eyes closed with a peaceful smile on his pretty face.

Yangyang looks at the space between the firebender and waterbender longingly. “Maybe when Nana’s leg is better, there’ll be room for me there too,” he says to Hutong, words whispered even though the others are asleep and too far away to hear anyway. “You won’t be lonely without me here sometimes, right Hutong?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uh yes so obviously in the show it is katara who saves aang completely, but with jeno's presence in this story i changed it around slightly. jaemin still did pretty much all the work, but i wanted it to be jaehyun who went and got yangyang in the end, just to kickstart a proper friendship for them and also be like yes jae can be selfish but he is also a good man ;;;
> 
> i hope you guys enjoyed! i saw someone say they wanted more of yangyang and this hopefully was what you wanted <333


	5. different heat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> yuta and sicheng depart the fire nation palace and begin their search for the avatar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> henlo here are some fire bois enjoy x

**Fire Nation waters**

They’d been at sea for almost a week now, and had yet to make any stops, although Yuta knew they would have to make one soon for the sake of the ship.

Somehow, in the few last hours of night spent in the palace, Sicheng had managed to pull together enough men for a capable crew and rations to last them roughly three weeks if they were careful. Yuta had no idea what favours the people who granted these things to Sicheng owed him, but once again his best friend had managed to be prepared in a situation that for many could well have meant instant failure.

It only added to the immense respect Yuta had for him that he never voiced aloud.

_After their final meal with his father the Fire Lord, Prince Jisung and Ten, Sicheng recuses himself to go to his rooms. When Yuta makes to depart for his own quarters, Jisung pinches sharply through his sleeve. _

_“Father has promoted Ten to Captain of the Guard,” Jisung smiles, a false pleasance over his face. “Congratulate him.”_

_Yuta does, then bows one last time before leaving them behind. _

_Just before dawn, Yuta jolts awake to a soft knock on the wall beside his bed, fearing that he has slept over time and will be executed immediately. A hand covers his mouth before he can fight, and he finds himself staring into Ten’s eyes. _

_Ten removes his hand when he is sure of the prince’s silence. “Come with me,” he whispers, already padding out of the room. _

_Yuta sits up, and his heart plummets at the realization that once again, this will no longer be his home. He pulls on the clothes laid out across his bed and then scans the room for the trunk he had packed the things he wants to bring with him, but it is gone. _

_Hoping that Ten already took it, he looks around one last time and leaves._

_Down the end of the hall is Ten, eyes flicking about. Nervous, Yuta realises. Of course, with his new promotion, Ten wouldn’t want anyone seeing this and reporting back to Jisung. _

_When he reaches the shorter man, Ten sets off again, heading to the docks. _

_“Traitor.”_

_Ten exhales sharply. “Don’t. I’m helping you.”_

_“Really? Because from where I’m standing it looks like you all but **thanked** my father and brother for getting me out of the way.”_

_Ten pushes open a door away from the main doors, slowly to ensure it doesn’t creak. They slip through to arrive outside, just a little way off from the main area of the docks. A single large ship lies just ahead of them, and Ten starts down the cliff towards it. _

_“Jisung is my friend too,” Ten says, grunting with the effort not to slip on the grassy rocks. “I’m not going to get myself banished too. I’ve worked hard to get where I am, I can’t just give it all up, not now.”_

_He extends his hand to Yuta, who knocks it away and clambers down himself. Ten shrugs, but continues on, “you’ll find the avatar and return, and when you do, the three of us will be in a place of power together. I won’t continue being the circus boy who just stays in your shadow.”_

_Yuta stops to stare at him. “What are you talking about?” _

_“I’m going to be somebody, Yuta. Someone others respect, someone important. I can’t live any other way.”_

_“You are important to me.”_

_They reach the shore, and begin walking across the sand towards the ship. Yuta sees Sicheng on the top deck, watching crew members prepare and a few servants he must have bribed to help bring things aboard for the journey. _

_“If I leave with you, I’ll lose any chance of finding my place in the Fire Nation. You have your title and Sicheng. What do I have?”_

_“What are you saying? You have Sicheng too!”_

_Ten shakes his head. “It is not the same.”_

_They reach the ship, and Sicheng is now standing on the ramp waiting for them. Yuta decides for once to let things go. _

_“The sun is going to rise soon,” Sicheng says by way of greeting. “I have it on good authority that if we are not gone by then a cannon will bury itself into this ship, and I called in too many favours to let it go to waste.”_

_Ten chuckles. “Jisung’s temper knows no bounds.”_

_“Runs in the family,” Yuta mutters, falling silent when Sicheng shoots him a look. _

_“Work hard, Ten,” Sicheng says, wrapping himself around the new captain’s much smaller frame. “Let’s meet again as successful people.”_

_“Good luck,” Ten returns, smiling._

_Sicheng turns and continues up the ramp, barking at the crew to prepare for departure. _

_Ten grabs Yuta’s hand, sensing the prince about to leave him without saying goodbye. “I know you’re mad now,” he says earnestly gripping the prince’s hand tightly, “but please don’t be mad at me for too long. Fate will see us through this.”_

_A servant calls from a little way off. “My Prince, we need to withdraw the ramp.”_

_Ten waits for an answer, eyes large and worried. _

_Yuta squeezes his hand. “Work hard,” he says, drawing away. He sees Ten’s shoulders almost collapse with relief. _

_“Stay safe,” Ten calls out, stepping back onto the docks. _

_When the ship finally moves, the sun is just starting to break over the city, and Yuta watches Ten’s tiny figure clamber up the last of the rocks hastily with a prayer on his lips that his friend too, stays safe until they return. _

Now, Sicheng turns from his place overlooking the water, lips pursed in thought. The wind disrupts the careful placement of his black curls, lifting them off his brow and revealing his clear brown eyes and sharp gaze under perfectly arched brows. It shouldn’t be possible, Yuta thinks, to be able to tell someone is intelligent just by looking at them. But with his Sicheng, cleverness seems to roll off him in waves.

“We must sail straight to Ba Sing Se,” says Sicheng.

It takes a couple of seconds for his words to sink in. “What?” Yuta asks, confused. “I just told you of the avatar’s whereabouts.”

“For now, he is headed to a water tribe, yes,” Sicheng nods, “but where we have a ship, the avatar has a flying bison. There is nothing for him there. They left the Southern Water Tribe in tatters, the Northern Tribe will never let them in. They’re effectively in limbo.”

He pauses to check that the prince is following on, and Yuta gestures for him to continue.

“That leaves their only chance for an ally lying in the Earth Kingdom, which we have almost complete control over, except for Ba Sing Se. They’ll be after the help of the king. Therefore we must leave now, and cut them off there.”

“It will be hard to get in. Even if they didn’t know my face, the king allows no one in or out these days.”

Sicheng smiles. “Why don’t we worry about that when we get there?”

Yuta scoffs. “And people say I’m too sure of myself.”

“You are,” Sicheng responds boldly, eyes locked with his prince’s. “But confidence stemming from the expectation that things will work out simply because of who you are will only get you so far.”

“And why do you get to be so confident?” Yuta asks sourly, looking past his best friend’s faint smugness to watch the deep blue waves behind him.

“Because my strategies are tried and true.”

“Nonsense.”

Sicheng laughs. “When you have _control_,” he says pointedly, ignoring the prince’s eye roll, “you will understand what it means to expect things because of what you have done, and not because of what has fallen into your lap.”

Yuta digests this for a moment, then decides he is bored of it… or tired of feeling too far behind Sicheng’s annoyingly complex thought processes. He jerks his head to the table in the centre of the deck. “I want to play pai sho.”

He stalks over to the table and takes a seat, waving away the closest crew members. Still up against the rail, Sicheng is silently watching him prepare for the game. Of course Sicheng knows that he doesn’t really want to play pai sho, but he won’t mention it. Either way, Sicheng has his way, and the smugness radiating from the younger man tells Yuta as much.

He sighs. “Come here, Sicheng.”

As their game begins, the wind dies down a little, and the clouds part enough for the last hour of sunlight before sunset. Warmth washes over Yuta, and he revels in it, leaning backwards in his chair to feel the heat on his cheeks. Without thinking, he pulls his hair out of the bun atop his head, letting it fall messily out of place. The wind picks it up and begins to play with it, and Yuta’s head immediately feels a thousand times lighter.

It’s a different kind of warmth here, outside of the Fire Nation. In the palace, heat is stifling, fire is power, ambition is deadly. Miles away from it all, being a firebender means something different. Everything, even the simple act of taking his hair out of its rigid style, is different out here.

Yuta sits up again and looks at Sicheng, realising the other is already watching him.

“Thinking about which way I’ll beat you this time?” Sicheng asks teasingly, long fingers drumming the table to rile the prince up.

“Mmm,” is Yuta’s non-committal reply. He doesn’t miss Sicheng’s slight, surprised brow raise.

_Sicheng is different out here too_, Yuta realises.

He likes it. “I could get used to this.”

“Don’t play around,” Sicheng scolds. “You are used to it, I beat you every time.”

“I’ll get you one day,” Yuta smirks. “Don’t be cocky.”

Yes, he likes it very much.

“Let’s begin.”


	6. tribe sub-zero

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> yangyang leads his family to unfamiliar territory in search of a waterbender teacher and they stumble into trouble once again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeee im back so soon jhghfgks, i have three assignments due at the end of the week so i wanted to get a couple of updates out now hehe

**Between the Southern Water Tribe and the Earth Kingdom **

_Unknown territory _

Yangyang frowns as he surveys his surroundings. He’d known he was coming to a place rumoured to be almost uninhabited, but the information whispered to him by an old lady at their last stop- an old earthbender living in a village now under the control of the Fire Nation- was enough of incentive for him to lead them out here.

The lady had told him of a third tribe: escapees previously from the Northern Water Tribe who’d narrowly evaded capture by the Fire Nation during the worst of the war, but hadn’t made it back to the North Pole in time before the ice wall was erected to stop the Fire Nation invading.

She said that while many did not know of its existence or simply believed it to be a myth, she had met one of them when he passed through on his way to Ba Sing Se.

That was enough for Yangyang to come here. Having promised to help Jaemin learn to waterbend, and needing to develop such skills himself, the avatar knew his best- or only- bet would be this secret tribe. The Northern Tribe was off limits, and of course Jaemin had the only skills left in his own tribe, so this gamble is necessary.

But still, the place isn’t exactly welcoming. There’s a stench from somewhere ahead of him- a forest, it looks to be- and with the land supposedly unlived on, there are no signs to help him with where to go. He'd left Hutong and Momo hidden in one cave they'd found, wanting them to rest safely while the boys search. 

He continues wading through the snow, hoping to find anything that could possibly give him a lead. Ever positive, Yangyang had told the boys he’d return to them in about twenty minutes, and he knew his time to be almost up.

“Ugh!” He kicks at the snow, but his boots slip and he falls backwards.

Before he can pick himself up, a hand slips into his own.

“Come with me, quickly.”

A boy with wavy dark brown hair and thick brows looks up at him. Only his upper body is visible to Yangyang, the rest of him is underground in what seems to be some kind of cave or tunnel.

Yangyang gasps. “Are you a waterbender?”

“Shh!” The boy looks around frantically. “I am, but you must come with me now. Fire Nation soldiers have been here for two days, and they’re patrolling right now, so _come_.”

“My friends are here too, I must go and get them!”

“No!” The waterbender whispers, shaking his head violently. “The soldiers are almost here!”

“Then I need to warn them,” Yangyang whispers back. He makes to stand up, only to be yanked down again. Seconds later three Fire Nation soldiers file past, intimidating black and red uniforms starkly out of place in the snow and ice. He sucks in his breath, trying to stay silent until they march out of sight.

Yangyang turns to the brown-haired boy, eyes wide with fear, then stares down at the opening of the tunnel, unable to see anything but pitch black.

“We don’t have much time,” the boy says, more urgently this time. “They’ll be back.”

With one last glance back to where he last saw the other three boys, Yangyang allows the stranger to lead him into the ice.

“Jaehyun, leave it alone,” Jaemin says as his brother begins to walk away from himself and Jeno. “Yangyang will be back in a minute.”

“No, I definitely heard something over there. It might be dinner,” Jaehyun says happily, wriggling his brows before disappearing around the corner.

Jaemin sighs. “Hopefully we find this tribe soon. It’s nice of Yangyang to bring us here to learn new waterbending techniques, but I’m beginning to wonder if these people even exist. I’ve never heard of a third tribe, even if they are runaways from the Fire Nation’s takeover.”

He flops down into the snow. “I’m so tired.”

“Get off me! Hey!”

“Jaehyun?” Jaemin shoots to his feet. “Where-”

Jeno grabs him and clamps a hand over his mouth. “Quiet,” he orders in a whisper, hands pressing tighter into the waterbender’s waist when he struggles. “Don’t move.”

Through the thick, snowed-over trees, three Fire Nation soldiers surround Jaehyun, one pinning his arms behind his back. He looks directly at the younger boys and shakes his head faintly, then kicks behind him, hitting the shin of the soldier holding him.

The tallest soldier slaps him hard across the cheek, and Jaemin’s panicked shriek comes out as merely a squeak muffled by Jeno’s palm.

“We know the avatar is travelling with the help of a member of the Southern Water Tribe,” one of the soldiers states, gripping Jaehyun’s chin roughly. “What are you doing so far from home, kid? You think you can fight the great might of the Fire Nation?”

The soldiers laugh raucously, and Jaemin squirms harder to break free to run to his brother’s aid.

Jaehyun spits on the ground. “Fuck you.”

The tall soldier slaps him again, and the noise is enough that Jeno wonders if they broke something. Jaehyun grunts in pain, breathing hard.

“Back to camp,” orders one, and the three begin back up a trail, shoving Jaehyun ahead of them.

Jeno waits until they are out of sight to let Jaemin go, and when he does, the waterbender whirls on him, eyes lit with fury.

“How could you stop me from going to him?” He yells, tears spilling down his cheeks. “You TRAITOR, I bet you planned this-”

He begins pounding his fists against the soldier’s chest, and Jeno lets him for a minute, hoping it will calm him down some, or at least tire him out.

When Jaemin’s sobs turn into sniffs, and his punches begin to drag, Jeno sits him down on a log, then sits beside him.

“I didn’t plan it, Nana,” he says quietly, watching the other boy stare blankly at the snow. “I think you know that.”

Jaemin says nothing.

“I think you also know you wouldn’t have stood a chance against the soldiers.” When Jaemin opens his mouth Jeno shakes his head. “I’m not saying your bending is useless. But they were fully grown men, and they have guns.”

He lets this sink in, and Jaemin lets out a shaky exhale.

“I can’t lose him too.”

“I know.” Jeno stands up, offering his hand to the waterbender. “That’s why we’re going to get him back.”

It’s getting colder, and Jeno is again reminded of the fact that he has far from the right attire to be traipsing about in the snow. _Why didn’t I take my stupid coat off Prince Yuta’s stupid ship_, he grumbles to himself. Although he’s been trained to be stoic in all kinds of situations and weather, the increasingly freezing temperatures are beginning to get to him. Worst of all, as a young soldier, leaving with the prince was his first time off Fire Nation land, and he’s never been this cold in his life.

He tugs Jaemin along with him, wary of the waterbender blinking tiredly both from physical exhaustion and stress. _At least his hand is warm_, Jeno concedes, trying to focus on that one consolation.

When they reach a clearing, the sound of laughter travels over the snow-covered cliff to their right. Jeno stiffens, unsure of who it might be. He leads Jaemin further into the clearing, surrounded by more trees, and carefully tucks the waterbender into an open log hidden between two bushes.

His hand accidentally brushes over Jaemin’s ear and Jeno jerks, feeling how icy the boy’s skin is. He lifts the hood of Jaemin’s coat over his head, making sure to cover as much of his face as possible. “Stay here and keep silent. I’ll be back in a minute.”

He heads back through the clearing to the cliff and begins his ascent, bare hands beginning to burn as he climbs upwards. At the top of the hill, Jeno finds himself looking down on a campfire. He shuffles closer, taking hold of one of the trees next to him, peering at the shadows of people around the fire.

“Who are you- AH!”

The tree branch gives into his weight and snaps, sending him rolling down the hill. Something hard beneath the snow catches his hip bone and he grunts in pain, then comes to a stop when he reaches flat ground.

He opens his eyes and gazes dazedly up at a group of six people: all waterbenders, except for Yangyang, who first stares at him in shock, before shifting into anger.

“WHERE IS NANA?”

The avatar grabs Jeno’s shirtfront and practically throttles him. “What did you do with him? Did you give him over to the FIRE NATION?”

Jeno shoves Yangyang forcefully, sending him tumbling backwards into the snow. A waterbender with sharp brows steps forward, only to be held back by a blonde girl.

“Let them sort it out, Xiaojun.”

After catching his breath, Jeno stands upright, one hand resting on his side_. I must’ve pulled something when I fell_, he frowns. He looks at Yangyang. “Nana is fine. He’s very tired, and I didn’t want him coming with me to check who you were in case these people turned out to be Fire Nation too.”

Yangyang has the decency to look ashamed, while a very tall girl with light brown hair behind him wears a perplexed expression.

“Am I missing something?” She asks, head cocked to assess his outfit. “You appear to be a Fire Nation soldier yourself.”

Jeno doesn’t quite know how to reply to that. He himself isn’t sure what the hell he’s doing.

Thankfully, Yangyang coughs to interrupt. “He’s with us.”

A dark-haired girl to the taller one’s left wrinkles her nose. “You didn't mention that when we went back for your bison and lemur. That’s quite a big detail to leave out.”

Yangyang just stares at his feet.

“Anyway,” Jeno juts out his chin, wishing to at least look to be in control, even if he doesn’t feel it, “I have to go back and get Nana before something gets him or he freezes to death in this hell hole.”

He turns on heel and begins walking back up the hill.

“Wait!”

Jeno ignores it, walking determinedly back up. Plunging his hands into the snow, he realises he can no longer feel his fingers. He sighs unhappily.

“Jeno!”

Hutong lands beside him, Yangyang perched precariously on her head. He gestures to the ladder hanging off the saddle, and Jeno climbs on. Without waiting for Jeno to get all the way up, Hutong flies off again, soaring quickly upwards and over the wall.

Yangyang leans down. “Where is he?”

“In that clearing just there,” Jeno points, and instinctively begins praying silently that nothing has happened during the time he’s been gone.

They land just by the tree log, and Jeno spots Jaemin’s blue jacket, albeit covered in a lot more snow than when he left him. The two of them run to him quickly.

“Nana, are you okay?” Yangyang asks, cupping Jaemin’s face in his hands. He flinches. “You’re so cold.”

Jaemin blinks slowly, not seeming entirely conscious. “Jaehyun,” he mumbles. “We need to find Jaehyun.”

Yangyang turns to Jeno in shock. “Jaehyun- I completely- where is he?”

Jeno ignores him in favour of dusting as much snow as possible from the waterbender’s clothes and hair, then picking him up gingerly, not wanting to knock into the wood.

“Why didn’t you mention Jaehyun was missing?” Yangyang questions, face screwed up in anger.

“Why didn’t you ask about him earlier?” Jeno spits venomously. “While you were gone, Fire Nation soldiers found him. Jaehyun saved your life only days ago and you forgot about him. Now he’s captured because of you. Don’t put that on me.”

Yangyang pales, but before he can reply Jaemin mutters, “stop fighting.”

His head lolls back onto Jeno’s shoulder, and Jeno nods. “Let’s just get back.”

“Yeah,” Yangyang says quietly. “Good idea.”

After flying in silence back to the tribe, Yangyang helps Jeno carry Jaemin down to the ground where they are met by the tall girl from earlier. She bows slightly, and Jeno does his best to return the gesture with the waterbender in his arms.

“Jeno, my name is Sooyoung, and I am the leader of this tribe,” Sooyoung smiles. “We won’t ask anything of you tonight, as your friend appears to be sleeping. Yangyang, Xiaojun has room for you to sleep in his tent.”

She nods to the blonde girl beside her. “Wendy has set up a tent for you two. Rest well.”

Yangyang waves to Jeno before following Sooyoung to the campfire, where the rest of the tribe are already gathered around, eating and singing. Jeno wades through the snow after Wendy, grateful that Jaemin isn’t very heavy because he’s beginning to have to carry the waterbender a lot more often than he expected.

They arrive at a small white tent and Wendy ushers Jeno in, helping him lower Jaemin onto the bed. “I’ll see you for breakfast,” she says, turning to leave.

“Wait, Wendy.”

“Yes?”

“Could you please take a look at him?” Jeno asks, biting his lip. “He’s shivering a lot even with his jacket on.”

Wendy moves to sit down on the bed beside Jaemin, pressing the back of her hand to his forehead.

“His leg got broken a few days ago, but he said it was fixed.”

“Would you…”

Jeno rolls up Jaemin’s pant leg up to his knee, and Wendy checks over the area, careful fingers assessing the repair.

“His leg has healed well,” hums Wendy, looking satisfied. “The bone appears to be neatly in place, and he has only a light fever, which I imagine has come as a result of the stress of overspending his energy to fix it.”

Jeno shakes his head. “His stress isn’t from his injury. His brother was taken by soldiers and we only just escaped. Until we can get Jaehyun back I don’t think he will get much better.”

“I’ll talk to the rest of the tribe,” Wendy promises. “Try to sleep for now.”

With that she exits the tent, leaving Jeno to sort out their sleeping arrangements. He surveys the simple bed set up for them- eyeing the incredibly warm looking blankets thankfully- then tucks Jaemin in carefully, shushing him when he begins to stir.

“Jaehyun-”

“Shh, we’ll find him. He’ll be alright.”

Jaemin shakes his head, tears welling up in his eyes. His body is shaking in a way Jeno has never seen before, but he knows the panic in the waterbender’s eyes isn’t going to help him get better.

“You don’t understand, our m-mother- they already- they took-”

Without hesitating, Jeno climbs onto the blankets beside the waterbender and pulls him to his chest, trying his best to radiate warmth and comfort. Tears roll down his skin from where Jaemin’s face rests in the crook of his neck, and he cards one hand through the waterbender’s caramel-brown hair, the other rubbing small circles into his back.

“You don’t understand,” Jaemin hiccups. “If something happens to him, I’ll- I’ll just-”

“Nana.”

At the sound of his name, the waterbender tilts his face up at the soldier, chest still heaving. In the glow of the single lantern Wendy left for them, his tanned skin is warm and his blue eyes still sparkle, but with tears instead of the usual happiness Jeno loves to see in them.

He stares at Jaemin, unable to speak for a moment. Jeno faintly registers the peals of laughter from the campfire and the wind raging on outside, but inside the tent they sit in silence, hot breaths mixing together in the cold air.

“Jeno?”

Jeno blinks, remembering what he’s meant to be doing: comforting his friend in a rather traumatic situation. He clears his throat. “I just… want you not to worry tonight. And to sleep well. We have help now, we’ll get him back. Jaehyun is strong; he can handle himself. So just rest while you can.”

“He is strong.” Jaemin smiles sadly. “I fight with him all the time but I don’t know what I’d do without him.”

“Well, that’s how it is with family, isn’t it?”

“Well, yes,” Jaemin giggles. “Is it also that way for you?”

Jeno shrugs. “I don’t know, actually. I don’t have one.”

Jaemin stares up at him, wide eyed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“Nana, it’s fine. Don’t apologise.”

Seeing the questions in the waterbender’s eyes, Jeno decides to quiet them down before Jaemin decides to start a heavy discussion instead of sleeping like he needs to.

“I’ll tell you about it another time,” he says. “But right now you’re not well, and it’s not often we have an actual bed to sleep in, so sleep now.”

“Hutong’s saddle is quite nice to sleep in.”

Jeno sighs at the waterbender’s teasing grin. “But it isn’t a _bed_ now, is it? Go to sleep and stop being silly.”

The pair climb under the blankets, and when Jeno lies down after blowing out the lantern’s fire he freezes as his body presses up against Jaemin’s. He tries to wriggle away, only to almost roll onto the floor.

Jaemin grabs him and pulls him back. “Small bed, huh.”

In the dark, Jeno can’t see the waterbender’s smile, but the teasing tone in his voice is enough to make his face heat up. “Go to sleep.”

“Go tO sLeEp,” Jaemin says mockingly, followed by a dig in the ribs from Jeno. He squeaks out, “okay, okay.”

“Hmph,” says Jeno. But he’s smiling anyway, no matter how hard he tries to stop, and despite the stress at hand and being in the absolute middle of nowhere, Jeno believes that not once in his life has he ever felt quite as at home as he does right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so the next chapter will introduce the rest of the tribe and 2 more nct members so i'm looking forward to writing that! 
> 
> i'm still not sure how long this fic is going to be but i'm trying to keep the pacing roughly at the same speed as the tv show in terms of constant happenings and character development, but i obviously will not be keeping the plot as long as like 4 seasons dhjshjlgh 
> 
> i'm a little bit curious as to which characters everyone likes best/doesn't like hehe


	7. blood moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the gang heads deeper into the swamp where jaemin discovers new techniques and finds himself thrust into increasingly more intense situations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh my godddd i kind of just wanted to finish my two huge fics and now i've done that im back on my avatar bullshit so hhhh hope u enjoy

**Between the south-western Earth Kingdom and Southern Water Tribe**

_Foggy Swamp _

“It’s too cold and this cell sucks. Who even built this thing?”

The guards snort at the sight of Jaehyun draped against the bars.

“I don’t see you escaping, kid.”

“Fuck off.”

A scuffling from outside the cave interrupts them.

“What is that?”

“Sit down,” the guard juts his chin at Jaehyun and hefts his gun in one hand. He nods to the other guard, then looks at Jaehyun again. “And you- quit whining.”

Jaehyun glares as they head outside. “I will do no such thing.”

_Thump. Thump. _

“Hello?”

_Thump. Thump. Thump. _

“I’m not done complaining!”

Silence.

Jaehyun narrows his eyes and squeezes himself against the cell bars. “Hey! Are you even listening to me?”

A strong perfume takes over his senses, and through the fog a figure appears in the cave: a tall, thin man with black hair dressed in thick pale blue furs, no weapons in hand but with one brow raised as he takes in the shitty makeshift prison cell before him.

“Your cheekbone is broken,” the man says, eyeing the damage to Jaehyun’s face. “It looks like shit.”

Jaehyun’s mouth twists. “Go away if you’re going to be rude.”

“Maybe I will.”

“No, wait,” Jaehyun hisses, lunging through the bars. He scowls when the man moves just out of reach. “Help me out of here.”

“Why should I?”

Jaehyun groans in exasperation. “Because I don’t want to die right now? Please, mister…”

“Doyoung.”

“Please, Mr. Doyoung.”

Doyoung bites back a smile. “Doyoung will do.”

He draws a longsword from beneath his robes and within a second slices off the door’s chain. “They won’t be out long,” Doyoung says, referring to the guards. “Come with me.”

Jaehyun shoves the cell door open and hastens to catch up to the fast-paced man. He tugs his robes tightly around him as they exit the cave, the cold wind biting at his nose and cheeks. “So,” Jaehyun smirks, stepping over the bodies of the guards, “are we going to back to your home?”

_Zing. _

A sharp prick digs under Jaehyun’s chin. He follows the longsword down to where it rests in Doyoung’s hand, glinting in accompaniment with the slightly mad look in the waterbender’s eyes.

“There is nothing stopping me from slicing your throat open right this minute.”

Jaehyun raises his palms in surrender. “Right. Right… not another word from me.”

Jeno studies the waterbenders gathered around the fire with interest as he eats his breakfast: salmon and some soup he’d never tried before but didn’t completely hate. Wendy and Xiaojun stand by the pot, ladling out soup to the rest of the tribe, who sit comfortably along the logs as they eat.

He feels Yangyang’s gaze on him from where the young avatar stands on the other side of the fire feeding Hutong, but doesn’t make eye contact. It was obvious that Yangyang had feelings for Jaemin, feelings that made him constantly tense towards Jeno.

And Jeno didn’t even want to think about what he felt.

Not that he was feeling anything, or whatever.

_Ugh. _

He shakes away the thought and points to Jaemin’s bowl. “Pass it to me.”

Jaemin blinks, but hands it over anyway. “What are you doing?”

Jeno walks over to Xiaojun, holding out the bowl as the waterbender ladles an extra serving. He bows his head in quiet thanks and returns to Jaemin’s side, placing the bowl back in his hands.

“You need to eat more. We’re about the same height, yet you weigh far less than me.”

“Perhaps it’s the stress.”

Jeno grunts in agreement.

“You should want me to stay lighter,” Jaemin laughs. He bumps his shoulder against Jeno’s. “You keep having to carry me.”

Jeno glares.

“Okay, okay,” Jaemin shoves a spoonful in to shut himself up.

“Renjun!”

The two boys turn at Xiaojun’s call, just as a new boy arrives at the fire.

The boy is shorter than either Jeno or Jaemin, with soft brown hair and keen eyes, assessing the newcomers shrewdly. His robes are slightly different to the tribe’s, pale blue where the tribe maintains a cornflower blue aesthetic.

“Renjun,” Sooyoung calls to him, making her way toward him. “Why didn’t you report to me last night?” 

“I had to remain at home,” Renjun replies in a clear, strong voice. “There are a great many Fire Nation soldiers around lately and Doyoung saw some with a hostage. A waterbender, although we didn’t recognise him. So Doyoung went after them and I stayed home. I don’t like to leave the place unattended for too long.”

“Wait!”

Renjun turns to face Jaemin. “What?”

“The waterbender,” Jaemin says, eyes wide. “Did your friend find him?”

“Of course.” Renjun shrugs, as if this is a given. “Do you know him?”

“He is my brother.”

“He’s annoying.”

Jaemin chokes out something between a laugh and a sob. “Oh, he is,” he dashes a tear from his eye. “He’s a nightmare.”

Renjun knits his brows. “So… do you want to see him?”

Jaemin buries his face in his palms, crying properly now.

“He does,” Jeno says curtly. “Don’t mind him, he’s just… overwhelmed right now.”

“I see.”

“We can fly over.”

Yangyang stands behind Renjun, hands clasped together. “Hutong would gladly take us.”

Renjun looks over to the flying bison, then back to the avatar. He gives a hint of a smile. “Alright then.”

“I was surprised when Jaemin said they were brothers,” Renjun says, watching the two boys hug a few metres away. “They don’t look alike at all.”

The group stand together in front of Doyoung and Renjun’s tents, talking quietly while the brothers reunite. After making the decision to stay the night, Yangyang had opted to show Hutong an extremely muddy part of the surrounding swamp, and now the flying bison was absolutely filthy.

“Nana told me Jaehyun got their mother’s looks,” Yangyang informs him. “Apparently Jaemin resembles the rest of their tribe.”

“Interesting.” Doyoung joins them, not looking very interested at all. “They may not look alike but they both certainly talk too much.”

Jeno silently agrees.

Jaemin and Jaehyun step apart and walk over, everyone noting that Jaehyun now has a limp to match his brother’s.

“It stinks out here,” Jaehyun sniffs the air. He glances at Doyoung. “Is that why you wear such strong perfume?”

“It is.”

“Interesting.”

“Thank you for saving him, Doyoung,” Jaemin bows in gratitude. “I don’t know how to repay you.”

Doyoung’s eyes glitter. “I do.”

“That’s… good.”

“Come with me after dinner. I have something to tell you that will be of use to you.”

The sky is almost pitch black, Jaemin realises, now looking up to see the darkness riddled with silver stars and the glow of the full moon. He’s been out here for hours now, learning and building upon waterbending techniques under Doyoung’s guidance that he could never have dreamed of before.

In just this small swamp clearing not far from Doyoung and Renjun’s home, Jaemin had learnt to bend the moisture in the air, and to bend water within plants.

“Doyoung, I can’t thank you enough. You’ve taught me far more than I believed possible.”

Doyoung smiles. “No need to thank me.” He tilts his head to the sky. “I’ve one more gift for you.”

“Oh.”

“I want to tell you a story,” the man says, plucking a fire lily from the pond. He twists it in his hand for a moment, then places it into Jaemin’s palm. “Something from a long time ago, on a night like this.”

“Like what?”

“A full moon,” Doyoung clarifies. “You see, years ago, the Fire Nation captured a woman named Hama and imprisoned her like many other waterbenders, the ones that weren’t immediately killed. I understand you know something of that.”

Jaemin closes his eyes. “Yes.”

“During her time in prison, Hama continued to practice her bending. It was hard, with only the minimal water provided to her by the prison guards, but she couldn’t lose her bending along with everything else she’d lost. She wouldn’t. And over time she began to bend the water in the air, anything she could. What Hama came to discover was that all life contains water… that anything can be bended.”

The shift in his tone- something darker, more secretive- does not escape Jaemin.

“Hama realised that with advanced skill, a waterbender can manipulate even the fluids within an organism’s body. And the elephant rats in the jail cells became her first experiments.”

“Fluids…” Jaemin sucks in his breath. “Like blood.”

Doyoung nods. “Like blood.”

Jaemin stares at the older man. “I’m not sure I want to hear any more.”

“This is a gift,” Doyoung says lowly. “Don’t be foolish with information freely given to you.”

Jaemin says nothing.

“Under the light of a full moon, Hama attempted to take hold of the fluid inside one of the rats… and she succeeded. She realised that this gift from the moon- this art of bloodbending- was her step to freedom. Waterbending powers are strengthened by the full moon, and over time she moved from being able to control an entire horde of rats to controlling the prison guards. Finally, Hama was able to control the guards, allowing her to force them into setting herself and other waterbenders free.”

“It doesn’t seem right,” Jaemin says quietly. “To control another living creature that way.”

Doyoung grinds his teeth. “She _saved_ herself and others.”

“Yes.”

“If you want to win this war, you need to learn it.”

“I don’t.”

Doyoung sighs. “Renjun. Come out.”

Jaemin gasps as the other boy steps out from behind a tree, expression neutral.

“Demonstrate.”

“What?”

Renjun raises his arms and closes his eyes in concentration. Then, without any warning, Jaemin cries out as a shock goes through him, a powerful feeling akin to a system override. He tries to move, yet finds himself rooted to the spot.

“What are you doing!”

“You need to _learn_ this. Soak in the moon’s powers!”

“’Freely!’ You said this was free information and I didn’t want it!” Jaemin shouts, struggling against Renjun’s hold on him. “You’re holding me against my will! Let me go!”

“Embrace your power,” Doyoung calls to him, “the moon will aid you but you must yield to it!”

“Nana!”

Three heads turn swiftly to the new voice, owned by Jaehyun, who bursts into the clearing. He places his hands on his knees, catching his breath. “What’s happening?”

“He’s receiving a lesson,” Doyoung says matter-of-factly. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“Forgive me for being worried about my own brother,” Jaehyun says sarcastically, ignoring Doyoung’s words and continuing toward them. “I knew something wasn’t right, and now- _ah_!”

He freezes in place, although Jaemin can tell from Jaehyun’s shock that it isn’t by choice.

“Let him go!”

“Come and get him.”

Jaehyun watches his brother with big eyes. “Don’t worry about me, Nana.”

Doyoung flexes his hands, and Jaehyun lets out a yell.

“I said let GO!”

Jaemin bursts out of Renjun’s hold, blood boiling with fear, rage and pure energy, and launches himself across the swamp, wrapping himself around his brother and pulling them both to the forest floor.

“Yes!” Doyoung cheers with delight as Jaemin shatters his hold on Jaehyun almost instantly. “See, Jaemin, this is sheer talent shining through! You can master this!”

“I can’t do this!” Jaemin gets to his feet, helping his brother up. He stretches out to the swamp water, flinging it straight at Doyoung, who returns a hit of his own.

“Eventually you run out of the water you’re hoping for and this is your only way out,” Doyoung dodges another attack. “Out here in a swamp you’re fine, but what are you going to do in Fire Nation territory? What will you do if you’re attacked in the desert? Embrace this, Jaemin!” 

They fight, circling each other, bombarding each other with different techniques and increasingly large amounts of water as Renjun and Jaehyun look on. It becomes clear that despite Doyoung’s years of experience, Jaemin remains a match for him with his raw talent for bending.

“This isn’t working,” Doyoung mutters. He reaches into his coat and pulls out a dagger. “Jaehyun, catch!”

Jaehyun catches the weapon by the hilt, confusion etched over his face until Doyoung stretches out his hand toward him, and the confusion becomes terror. “No! Stop!”

Jaemin twists back to see Jaehyun raising the dagger to his neck. “Doyoung, stop!”

“Can’t do that. You have to stop it.”

Under Doyoung’s force, Jaehyun draws the dagger closer to his own neck, closer, closer-

“Nana, please!”

Jaemin lets out a scream of rage, face turned to the sky as the full moon shines upon him, and the power that flows through his body renews him with restored energy. He raises his hands toward Doyoung, honing his bending with every fibre of his being, and with a yell reaches across the swamp and takes hold of Doyoung’s blood, forcing himself to cut off the movement of Doyoung’s arm.

“I … said…” he grunts out, “HANDS OFF MY BROTHER!”

The dagger clatters to the ground, and Jaehyun collapses after it in shock, clutching at his own neck as if to make sure he didn’t cut anything. Jaemin runs to him, hands running underneath Jaehyun’s chin to check for blood.

He finds nothing.

“Are you- are you-”

“I’m fine, Nana,” Jaehyun covers his brother’s hand with his own. “Not even a scratch.”

They sense a figure beside them, and look up to find Doyoung there.

“Congratulations.”

Jaemin sinks to his knees, panting heavily. “Why did you make me do that? I told you I didn’t want to!”

“Jaemin,” Doyoung says calmly, moving toward him until he crouches down in front of the younger waterbender. “In this war, you will always have to do things you don’t want to.”

Jaemin’s chest heaves.

“And for the record, I would never kill either of you. But sometimes efficient learning has a price. I’ll leave you to get your breath back.” Doyoung then gestures to Jaehyun. “Come.”

Offering an apologetic expression-and still wide-eyed at the events that just took place- Jaehyun slips past Jaemin and Renjun to follow Doyoung back into the forest.

Jaemin crawls over the roots of the tree beside him and leans back, resting his head against the trunk as he gets his breath back.

“It’s an art form.”

Jaemin scoffs, running a hand wearily through his hair. “Dark arts.”

“Yes,” Renjun agrees, emerging from the other side of the tree. He climbs across the roots, sitting beside Jaemin as if it were only natural. He, too, seems a little out of breath. “True power is understanding both sides of the world, light or dark. Don’t close your mind to it.”

Jaemin lets out a shallow laugh. “We just met and you want to tell me how to think?”

He turns his face to Renjun’s, barely registering the curiosity in the other boy’s eyes. “My whole life has been everyone telling me how to think. Telling me not to explore my bending, not to understand it, not to question anything or strive for anything beyond our tribe’s traditions. And yet here I am, a million miles away from home dragging my brother away from his post in our tribe and living in the saddle of a _flying bison_ with two boys I’ve never met and you want to tell _me_ not to close my mind to something?” 

He breaks off, cheeks flushed with exertion and then embarrassment as he realises the close proximity between them now.

Renjun watches him silently, moving closer by an inch. His gaze drops from Jaemin’s eyes to his lips for a millisecond, and Jaemin’s heart plummets.

_What is happening? _

“You got it,” Renjun whispers. “I won’t tell you what to do again.”

They stare at each other, Jaemin’s chest rising quickly while Renjun holds his gaze without effort.

Jaemin breaks.

“We need to go back,” Jaemin says, pulling himself to his feet. He dusts off more dirt from his knees, trying to look away from the bloodbender. “Need to sleep before we… well, before we do anything. We’re always busy these days.”

“I can see that.” Renjun’s gaze rakes over the other boy, tone lit with quiet amusement. “Let’s go back then. We can talk in the morning.”

_Talk_, Jaemin screams internally, pace shifting to a power walk as the bloodbender’s footsteps fall softly behind him. _Talk about what? _

_Why is everything so confusing lately?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so ... everybody likes na jaemin i guess ;;; i rly like jaehyun's sokka characterisation jhgfhg he's so funny to write,, also yes now renjun and doyoung are here stay tuned to see who's brought in next whoop


	8. air to earth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> two brothers work their way through rural earth villages to reach the secret full moon bay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> couple of things to note here:
> 
> \- i slightly changed the location of the foggy swamp tribe, making it a lot colder in the part where xiaojun found yangyang with actual snow. this part is closer to the southern water tribe, and so is sooyoung's tribe overall. however, doyoung and renjun live separately from the others; they're friends/allies with them, but live further away near the foggy swamp. in the cartoon series the foggy swamp tribe is extremely different to the other water tribes with its own traditions and culture, and is in the southwestern earth kingdom. in this fic its similar but more south, so they have cold winters (that's the snow they have when yangyang arrives) but the rest of the year is warmer and muggier
> 
> \- i'm really breaking from canon in terms of the actions the series characters took, but a lot of the events are quite similar to what happened in the show. for example, the ferry to ba sing se exists, but the avatar isn't the one to use it. i'll likely further stray away from the og narrative (bc its extremely long hdjhk) but keep the events and actions similar if that makes sense! 
> 
> \- the most notable break of canon is the existence of airbenders other than the avatar. yangyang is not the only airbender. there are not heaps alive, only a few, but i've written a way that has kept some alive and active (also, i don't believe / all / the airbenders were killed because as aang says in the show, the airbenders had no armies so they probably started fleeing and also they were nomads and the only people who could fly, so it seems plausible many are hidden in secret mountains or whatever. but thats discourse for another time)

**Earth Kingdom **

_A rural village _

Jungwoo picks at his robes in boredom, vaguely listening to the very lame sexual innuendos that the two Fire Nation soldiers sitting across from him keep tossing around. For colonisers, they seemed to be doing significantly less taking charge and more slacking about while feeding off the hard-earned fruits of Earth citizens’ labour. _That would be the point, idiot_.

He swipes a thumb over his robes’ fabric- an almost silken emerald green, much lovelier than the previous clothes he’d been wearing, and they complimented him ever so well; _women’s clothing is always so flattering, after all. _

Well, everything complimented Jungwoo, if he was being honest.

He didn’t feel bad about taking them off that woman’s clothesline either, because he’d seen at least ten other gowns of the same sort hanging along with them. As a matter of fact, Jungwoo quite believed he should have taken them all.

_Next time_, he promises.

He dances his fingers across the table top, drawing the solders’ attention back to himself.

“I’ve heard talk of an avatar lately.” Jungwoo blinks big, round eyes, locking in on the two men. “I don’t understand the fuss. Surely the Fire Nation has no viable threat? Is he so powerful that he could…”

“NONSENSE!”

The soldier closest to him balls his fists. “The avatar is a mere child. He is just an annoyance.”

“One that will be dealt with accordingly,” mutters the second.

Jungwoo swiftly tugs at his robe, shoving it off of his left shoulder. He leans forward, allowing a little hair to fall into his eyes. “Oh, I don’t doubt it for a second,” his gaze now more alluring to accompany the skin on show, “but I’m so stressed about what it could all mean… maybe if I had someone to protect me…”

He can see the desire clouding the soldiers’ eyes.

“I have a shift now,” the first soldier says lowly, eyes leaving Jungwoo’s to monitor an earthbender hovering outside the tent for a moment, “but, for a pretty little Earth boy like you, if you wanna stop by our tent later I think we could work something out…”

Jungwoo covers the soldier’s hand with his.

“Perfect.” The soldier flashes his teeth and knocks his friend’s shoulder. “The two of us share a tent. Number 10, close to the river. Come by after eight.”

“Wouldn’t miss it.” Jungwoo moves just enough that his robe slides further off his shoulder. “Oops. Silly me.”

The soldiers laugh raucously as he lazily tugs it back up, watching them leave the tent.

As soon as their footsteps fade away, Jungwoo straightens his robes properly and pats his hair down neatly. He patters to the tent opening, glances around, then steps out and continues down the path to the river, following the directions given to him.

“Number 10, number 10... Ah.”

Before he can enter, a pebble zings past his ear.

“Hey!”

A few metres away, hidden behind a large tree, a shock of orange-brown hair and emerald green robes grab his attention. Jungwoo grins, skipping over.

“Haechannie, I didn’t think you’d beat me today,” Jungwoo raises an eyebrow. “Where were you?”

“An official saw me around the tent and I had to tell him I was on laundry duty for the soldiers.” Haechan smirks, gesturing to the surrounding hundred tents. “I think I made it through about ten.”

“HEY! WHO RAIDED MY TENT?”

Their heads snap round to a soldier in the clearing, head angrily poking out of Tent 8. They turn back to each other.

“That’s our cue.” Haechan thrusts a satchel bag into Jungwoo’s arms, taking off through the forest with Jungwoo hot on his heels.

They don’t stop running until twenty minutes later, and after another hour of travelling through the forest the boys finally set foot on the dirt road, where they manage to flag down a merchant and pay for a ride.

Leaning back comfortably in the merchant’s wagon, Jungwoo studies the clouds until Haechan climbs back over the trade merchandise to slide in next to him.

“Well,” Haechan says, “the merchant says we’ll reach the bay in two hours. And the ferry tickets cost two gold pieces each.”

He whisks a bag underneath Jungwoo’s nose, shaking it rapidly, a manic grin on his face. “So, thank you for your services, brother.”

Jungwoo laughs, reveling in the sound of gold pieces clinking together noisily. “My pleasure.”

_Full moon bay _

“We’re here for the ferry.”

The soldier looks the boys up and down. “Can I see some identification?”

Haechan squints. “You didn’t ask the people in front of us for that.”

“Do you wanna go in or not, kid?”

“Sir,” Jungwoo laughs softly, stepping between his brother and the soldier’s spear, “my brother is just very tired. He means no disrespect.”

Haechan buries his face in his hands, knowing what comes next.

Jungwoo blinks prettily, raising his eyes to the moonlight so the soldier can see glistening tears threatening to fall. “It’s just that- well-” his chest jumps with the tiniest sob- “the Fire Nation just raided our village. We barely escaped. And our mother-”

He breaks off completely, tears rolling down his cheeks now. “We j-just- n-need-”

“Right away, of course,” the soldier flushes, ashamed of himself. He turns away from them and spreads his arms, raising the wall immediately. “Have a safe journey.”

The two pass under the wall, hearing it rumble closed behind them as they step into the bay.

“Woah,” Haechan whistles.

Full Moon Bay is beautiful at night, the moon the only light to make the eight ships currently docked visible. The water is calm and silent, a deeper blue than the evening sky, and Jungwoo leans against the rail to feel the gentle sea breeze against his face.

They watch as three dockworkers wave to the sixth ship, signaling its time to leave. The boys did their research earlier: in exactly twenty-four hours, that ship will dock at Ba Sing Se.

They want to be on the next.

“This way.”

Haechan leads his brother away from the docks, following the lady in front of them to a door. They pass through, stepping into a massive cave filled with hundreds of Earth Nation refugees.

“Stuff those Fire Nation robes you stole yesterday as far down into your bag as you can,” whispers Haechan, walking towards the ticket line.

Jungwoo does so.

“Huh. You would think we’d have the foresight to get a tent by now,” Haechan says, gazing round at the brown tents sheltering the refugees. He scrunches his nose. “Why don’t we have one?”

Jungwoo smirks. “With a face like mine we get shelter whenever we need it without issue.”

“Don’t be conceited.”

“As if you aren’t?”

“NEXT!”

They step to the front of the line at the ticketer’s call, clutching their satchels tightly.

“Passports!”

The woman peers down with a sneer as Haechan slides the desired documents toward her.

She stamps them both. “You can board in four hours. You won’t be called, so I suggest you take turns sleeping if you don’t want to miss it.” The woman eyes Jungwoo. “And unless you want to be robbed at some point, I suggest you stick to the shadows for now, young man.”

“How dare-”

“I’ll take that into account, ma’am,” Jungwoo bows, pulling Haechan away with him. “Do _not_ start a fight just when we’re getting out of here.”

“Humph.”

They walk past a group of children using a lettuce for a ball in their games to the darkest, quietest corner of the cave. It’s cold and damp, but for all the woman’s rudeness she had a point.

Haechan stops when they reach a large rock.

“Let’s wait here until we can go,” Haechan says quietly. “She’s right, your skin tone is getting too many second glances. No one’s going to like the idea of a noble taking the place of a refugee on here.”

No matter that he was not a noble. But the truth was, of course, far worse.

Jungwoo bites his lip, subtly looking around the room. Sure enough, a sharp pair of eyes in one corner watch him closely.

He tugs the hood of his cloak over his head. “We should sleep then,” Jungwoo whispers back, lowering himself behind the rock. “To pass time.”

“I’m going to go talk to that old woman spying on us first and tell her the Fire Nation just attacked our town. She looks like she’ll start yapping about you any minute.”

Haechan unties his cloak and rolls it into a ball, then slips it under Jungwoo’s head before walking away, likely to give Jungwoo some comfort as well as show off his own dark skin to make a point.

Back home, Jungwoo’s family have worn the Earth Kingdom robes since the Hundred Year War began- since Jungwoo and Haechan's Air Nomad ancestors escaped death at the hands of the Fire Lord. A small collection of survivors- a group their families were a part of- had been away from the Northern Air Temple at the time of the genocide, and upon returning to the carnage immediately flew to the Western and Eastern Air Temples for their female relatives. From there, those who survived banded together to live in hiding in the mountains until the Northern Temple was colonized by Earth Kingdom refugees a year later, to which they returned, now disguised in the nation’s green robes.

For the most part, the Air Nomads stuck together in this new environment, although some chose to marry Earth citizens. Haechan’s great-grandmother eventually did so, and while Haechan possessed airbending skills over earthbending, he did inherit the darker skin tone of the Earth Kingdom people.

By contrast, Jungwoo’s ancestors never married outside of the Air Nomads, leaving him with a fair complexion. However, both boys have orange-brown hair and grey eyes, an eye colour found in both nations and something that made their living together less suspicious.

Since his parents’ deaths to an illness that afflicted much of their home, Jungwoo had quickly been adopted into Haechan’s family as a young child. Haechan’s mother was the sister of Jungwoo’s father, and there’d been no question about him falling into life with them.

All in all, Jungwoo considers himself lucky.

Life in the Northern Temple isn’t what it was before he was born, but it’s home. He and Haechan have lived fairly comfortable lives. From the moment their parents discovered the boys’ airbending skills- skills that only three other family members have had since the beginning of the Hundred Year War- they’d helped them to train in secret.

But Jungwoo wanted more, as did Haechan, and when a merchant passed through their home claiming the Fire Nation believed the avatar was alive, Jungwoo knew it was time to leave.

He hopes that their goodbye note would comfort their family until their return.

For now, he has an avatar to find.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i enjoyed writing jungwoo's character so much! i didn't intend for this chapter to come across more jungwoo-centric so don't worry haechan will also be more prominent in upcoming chapters, this is just an introduction for the two :))
> 
> thanks for reading, kudos and ur comments they make me happy <333


	9. burning bridges

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> yuta and sicheng navigate their new life without status

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello back to some firebenders enjoy

** _Earth Kingdom _ **

_Between Full Moon Bay and Ba Sing Se_

_Fifteen hours earlier_

_“I’m going to look so different without it,” Yuta complains. “And you’ve cut it so much shorter than it needs to be! How long is this going to take to grow back?”_

_The two firebenders are crammed into a bathroom in the shoebox of a room they managed to find for the past two nights. On top of their small living space, Yuta had to leave behind his ship and crew at a coastal village a few towns earlier, because as Sicheng pointed out, the only way that two firebenders could enter Ba Sing Se would be to not be firebenders (which are of course, strictly banned by the King). _

_The plan was to get rid of the ship and procure new clothing that would give them access to the ferry for refugees looking to get to Ba Sing Se, a process Sicheng had in fact been aware of for quite some time. _

_Yuta supposed there wasn’t much Sicheng doesn’t know at all._

_To add insult to injury, Sicheng delivered the final blow, one Yuta knew was coming but had tried to remain in denial: they would have to cut off their top knots, and get rid of the gold decorative pieces they’d worn with them. And when they threw both knot and hairpiece into the creek earlier, the truth began to sink in. They are exiled. They are no longer men of status. They are on their own. _

_Perhaps it was inevitable. _

_“We will be recognised if we keep them,” Sicheng rolls his eyes, explaining for at least the tenth time this hour. He pauses, twirling the scissors around in his hand. “And you know what?_

_“What?” _

_“I don’t want it anymore,” Sicheng whispers. _

_After a moment, Yuta replies, equally softly, “What do you mean?”_

_It’s so quiet; quiet enough that all Yuta holds his breath as the wind rattles against the roof, and when Sicheng swallows the sound feels almost deafening. _

_“Nothing.” He dusts the hair off Yuta’s shoulders and leans close to him, chin just shy of resting on the Prince’s right shoulder. “I think you look good like this.” _

_They look at each other in the mirror. In the close quarters of the tiny bathroom, the air is stifling. And as Yuta’s gaze travels from his new haircut to Sicheng’s hands on his skin he feels as if he might burst into flames. _

_Sicheng clears his throat. “I’ll let you get dressed. We should head to the bay soon.” _

_Onboard the ferry _

Twelve hours have passed since the ferry left Full Moon Bay, twelve hours that Yuta has spent complaining relentlessly about the passengers, the trip length, the loss of his ship and most importantly the food: so awful he doesn’t even know what it is.

Yuta looks up from the slop in his bowl to study Sicheng’s clothing. “My clothes are so ugly,” he frowns down at the dull green he wears, and then back to the jade green of Sicheng’s robes. “Why are yours so much nicer?”

“If you would prefer women’s attire as opposed to male attire then you’re welcome to it,” Sicheng replies coolly, not bothering to elaborate. He continues to eat his own food with a poker face.

Yuta does a double take. He facepalms internally when he feels his cheeks begin to redden. “Er… I think I’ll be fine as is.”

Sicheng smirks.

“Where did you steal that hat from, anyway?”

“It was in the room next to us along with the robes I took.” Sicheng shrugs, lifting his hands to play with the hat rim. He smiles one of his boxy smiles, the kind that have become increasingly rarer since the beginning of their teen years.

Yuta fixes on it, expecting it to disappear.

It becomes wider instead, along with Sicheng’s bright eyes showing some confusion but mostly happiness. He places the hat on Yuta’s head. “Now you can play tourist, too!”

“That’s a nice way to say exiled and shamed former Crown Prince of the Fire Nation,” Yuta says sourly, sticking his bottom lip out.

Sicheng laughs at the sight. “You look like a grumpy cat doll.”

“You could at least say a tiger or some other fierce animal.”

Sicheng’s back hits the rail as he continues to giggle, and he leans backward to count the stars over the ocean. “I know you like cats, Yuta. You don’t have to pretend out here.”

Yuta snatches the hat off and places it back on Sicheng’s head. He drops his hand slowly, low enough to graze the younger man’s waist. He lingers, a beat passing as they stare hotly at each other.

Then he moves his hand to the rail. Yuta looks out toward the ocean, wind whipping against his face in an almost soothing manner. It’s different now, without his long hair to blow into his eyes.

“I don’t have time to pretend.” Yuta says, finally. He feels Sicheng’s gaze on him, and despite his wish not to meet it, Yuta can’t resist. He sighs. “What, Sicheng?”

Amusement brushes Sicheng’s lips. “Sometimes you have to make time.”

“To pretend?”

“Or to not.”

Something tells Yuta that Sicheng isn’t talking about cats anymore. And he doesn’t want to confront it.

Doesn’t know how.

Yuta settles on, “well I’m not going to pretend this food isn’t shit so that’s something.”

Sicheng’s scoff betrays only a little disappointment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if u drop a comment ill love u forever


	10. enter emerald

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the earthbenders encounter new arrivals in ba sing se

**Earth Kingdom **

_Ba Sing Se_

“Whatever happens today you guys are not allowed to let Taeil bully me into buying his cabbages, okay? I’m done. I cannot consume another in this lifetime.”

Johnny dusts his hands together as if washing his hands of the idea.

Lucas and Mark nod dutifully. “We won’t.”

The three of them did not voice aloud what they all know: no day passes without Taeil forcing his friend to support his business. And that was unlikely to change any time soon.

“We can just wait until he closes up and not go over to him,” Johnny nods to himself, laying out his escape-the-cabbages plan. “And then after he’s finished, we wave _really_ quickly, like we’re in a hurry, and he’ll have no choice but to-”

“Ho-ly. Shit.”

Johnny turns to find Mark and Lucas stopped dead in their tracks, jaws almost comically hanging. He follows their gaze through the crowd to a pair of boys sitting atop a barrel across the street, faces turned to the sun as one talks animatedly.

“They are not from Ba Sing Se,” Mark declares firmly.

Lucas nods in agreement. “The hair alone is honestly a dead giveaway.”

The three of them stare in fascination at the sun rays striking the boys’ hair, turning it aflame before their eyes.

“Yep, definitely not from Ba Sing Se.”

Johnny shrugs. “Maybe they just don’t hang around this area. You two spend most of your time in the Lower Ring but those robes scream Upper. Today could be some day they have reserved for making fun of the poor or something.”

Lucas sniffs. “Classist pig.”

Johnny rolls his eyes.

“That’s not it,” Mark shakes his head. He spreads his palms to emphasise his point. “I’m like, ninety-nine percent sure I would remember seeing anyone that beautiful walking around this shit-hole.”

Johnny scrunches his nose. “I happen to like this city.”

Mark sighs. “I’m sure you do Mr Middle Ring. But I was referring to the people in it. And now I’m in love with that boy.”

“Which one?”

“The one talk-”

“Uhhh…” Lucas coughs. “They’re heading this way.”

They watch as the two head toward them, somewhat fascinated by the way the crowd seems to part for them as they cross the street, emerald robes fluttering in the evening wind. The first walks with determination, chin jutted out slightly, orange-brown hair curled and as fiery as the glow in his eyes. A few steps behind him the second boy walks effortlessly, wavy hair almost floating rather than bouncing. There’s an elegant air to him, something that extends from his walk to the thinness of his waist and wrists.

“Fuck,” Lucas mutters, unsure what the hell is happening.

The shorter boy stops in front of them. “We need help and you look like helpful young men. My name is Haechan.”

He holds out his hand, waiting for someone to shake it.

After some delay, Mark does exactly that, although he reddens when Haechan’s lips shift to the tiniest smirk upon feeling the miniscule tremor of Mark’s hand.

_Whatever. _

“I’m Jungwoo,” the taller boy smiles softly, as soft as his voice. He doesn’t try to shake hands, instead meeting everyone’s eyes one by one, a hint of a smile on his lips.

Johnny internally considers the possibility of mind control, unable to explain Jungwoo’s hypnotic gaze in any other words. Judging by Lucas’ inability to tear his eyes away, it seems he feels the same way.

Mark clears his throat. “So you’re not from around here.”

“How did you know?” Haechan barks, shooting a hand out lightning fast to grip Mark’s jaw.

“Woah, woah, woah,” Lucas holds a hand up just shy of the other boy’s. “It’s pretty obvious, okay? Even if you were from Ba Sing Se you clearly stand out in the Lower Ring.”

He gestures to the duller, darker coloured clothing of the people around them, and after a moment Haechan lowers his arm.

“Right.”

Jungwoo smiles amusedly. “Don’t mind my brother.” He laughs, the sound raspy and weirdly attractive. “He’s a little hot-headed.”

Haechan says nothing.

“We’ve been looking for a place to stay all day,” Jungwoo continues. “Do you know anywhere decent?”

Johnny frowns. “I’m not really too familiar with the luxury of tavern rooms here, we mostly only eat and drink in them. Given that this is the Lower Ring of the city, I can’t guarantee that much comfort… or safety to be honest.”

“We live together,” Lucas beams. “Just managed to get a sort of share house for the three of us, and our friend Taeil. My brother used to live with us, but as a palace guard he has his own quarters there now.”

Jungwoo cocks an eyebrow. “So you have spare beds?”

“Oh- s-sort of,” Lucas stammers. “It’s not as simple as it sounds… you’d probably prefer a tavern in the Upper or even Middle-”

Jungwoo slips between Lucas and Johnny, slinging his arms around them. He runs his fingers down their arms to squeeze their biceps with another laugh.

“Your share house sounds wonderful,” he says, winking at Mark.

Neither Johnny nor Lucas miss Haechan’s eye roll, and Mark gets the distinct feeling that neither of the two parties trust each other one bit. 

Impatient to eat, Haechan eyes the crowd bustling around the stalls, gaze sharp as he assesses everything from hairpieces to ankle jewellery.

He locks in on one figure, a man wearing a long olive cloak, hood dipped low to obscure his face. If Haechan was a regular person, he would pay no attention to the man in Lower Ring colours; he would move along past without giving any thought. Just another commoner on their way home from work, that would be all.

But Haechan was not just a regular person. And since he’d spent the past five minutes questioning Mark about all the different colours worn in the class Rings in Ba Sing Se, Haechan noted instantly that although the cloak may be worn and muddy along the edges, it was simply old rather than of bad quality. With every step, the cloak would flutter ever so slightly to provide a glimpse at an emerald silk shirt, and by the time the man stopped at the cabbage stall just five metres off, Haechan’s keen hearing heard the jingle of pure gold bracelets on the man’s wrists before he caught sight of them.

He hums. “Thoughts on robbing that guy?”

Lucas and Mark go bug-eyed at the statement.

“Uh,” says Johnny, “that’s not-”

Jungwoo flips his bright hair with a laugh. “Challenge accepted,” he winks at the astonished faces of the earthbenders before flouncing away.

“Is he serious?” Mark looks at Haechan incredulously. “Because-”

“You know them, don’t you,” Haechan asks flatly.

“… Yes.”

“Ugh.”

“Go get our table,” Johnny nods to Mark, walking toward the cabbage stall. He gestures to Haechan. “Take him with you!”

Lucas bumps Johnny’s shoulder. “What the hell have we got ourselves into?”

“Fucked if I know.”

They arrive at the stall, and Taeil notices them first; Johnny can see the older man’s eyes darting form Jungwoo to the cabbages, as if wondering which to discuss first.

“Kun, Taeil!” Johnny throws one arm around Jungwoo and braces his other arm on Kun’s shoulder, grinning happily.

To Jungwoo’s surprise, Lucas sidles up on his other side, not touching him but inserting himself in Jungwoo’s other reach to the Prince, effectively cutting off Jungwoo’s access to the gold bracelets still jangling on Kun’s wrists.

Jungwoo sighs.

“I take it this means you can finally make it to dinner with us?”

The excitement in Johnny’s eyes is obvious, and Jungwoo wonders who this person is to trigger such happiness.

“It does,” Kun grins. “I’ve got a couple of hours free from the dungeon before anyone notices I’m gone.”

_Dungeon?_ Jungwoo’s eyes widen. _Am I with some kind of criminal? _

“I’m just about finished up,” Taeil announces. He looks at Johnny. “One more thing before we can go.”

“Taeil, _please_,” Johnny groans. “Not _today_!”

“That will be five dollars.”

The tavern seems more alive than ever as the seven boys fall into each other around the table, drunkenly leaning on each other’s shoulders as they drink and pass around their dishes of steaming noodles and dumplings.

Haechan sits squished between Mark and Taeil, the former of which he found exceptionally irritating for no valid reason he could think of- Mark was certainly nice enough, sweet if he was being nice.

Haechan isn’t nice, however.

As for the latter, Haechan already loved him to pieces. Anything Taeil had to say was absolutely hilarious, and anything Haechan had to say made Taeil laugh, no matter how mean it was. Truthfully, Haechan immediately felt comfortable amongst all of them, but he was pleased to find this connection with someone so quickly. It was the kind he’d craved his whole life: an instant bond.

Across from Haechan is Jungwoo, with Lucas on his left to face Mark, and Johnny on his right, laughing raucously with Kun, who manages to fit just in the corner if he has his thighs squashed up against Johnny’s. Jungwoo can’t figure them out.

Really, he can’t figure any of them out, except perhaps Taeil, who he thinks is an incredibly straightforward person… unless of course, he’s the opposite. _An enigma who sells cabbages is what Taeil is until further notice_, Jungwoo decides drunkenly.

He analyses the rest of the table as best he can in his intoxicated state. Mark and Lucas seem fun enough, although Jungwoo thinks they seem oblivious to their own feelings. But then again, Jungwoo also thinks the same about Kun and Johnny, and surely this place isn’t that messy.

Because god knows Jungwoo thrives on mess.

At least he’s sure of one thing: Ba Sing Se will be interesting with or without the avatar. As it should be.

He tunes back into the conversation in hand, just in time to catch Lucas outing Haechan and himself as thieves.

Kun laughs at the information. “You were going to rob me? You would have been better off holding me hostage.”

Haechan glares from across the table. “There’s still time for that.”

“I had no idea you were the Prince!” Jungwoo protests. He waves his hand around, spilling alcohol over the table without a care. “But now that we’re friends, maybe you can just _give_ me those bracelets of yours!”

The table bursts into laughter amidst the waitress arriving with another round of shots, and before he can snap at them he finds a cool glass pressed up against his lips.

Mark, red-faced and giggly, has taken it upon himself to pass him a shot.

“Fine,” Haechan says to no one, accepting the shot and tipping it back instantly. “I haven’t got properly smashed in far too long anyway.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i just realised i've only done one earthbender chapter before ??! the next one might be a shorter extension or sicheng and yuta's arrival... or both fhhshfg
> 
> do y'all like water, fire, earth or air chapters better?


	11. city of walls and secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the avatar's group is expanding; icy doyoung is intrigued by jaehyun

What Jaemin had expected upon finding the hidden Foggy Swamp Tribe was a few days of snow and acquiring new bending skills, maybe a bit of a rest, too. As it was, his brother had managed to get himself kidnapped, Jaemin had been stricken with anxiety more than once and to top it all his new acquaintances had coerced him into the dark skill of bloodbending, something Jaemin could never have seen coming.

Neither could he have foreseen his current circumstances: once again aboard Hutong’s saddle with Jeno, Jaehyun and Momo, only now much more crowded with the additional figures of Doyoung, Renjun and Xiaojun.

Yangyang has fallen asleep atop Hutong’s head, his arms propped behind his own head and one leg crossed over the other, facing the saddle. On the saddle floor lies Xiaojun curled into a ball. He’d spent the first few hours aboard playing games with Yangyang and entertaining everyone with singing and humorous stories, but as night fell Xiaojun quickly realised he wasn’t interested in sharing a bench with Jaehyun and Doyoung’s long limbs, nor Doyoung’s tendency to kick in his sleep.

Doyoung seemed at his wit’s end for the majority of the trip; between the playful shouting of the younger boys and Jaehyun’s incessant flirting he’d considered jumping into the sea more than once. But his determination to get out of the swamp had spurred him on. Doyoung detests neutrality more than anything: if a war is to be waged, he must fight it. He had requested help from the kingdom before, to which Ba Sing Se had responded to by closing its doors to all without giving even the slightest promise of aid should things get worse… and they had.

Doyoung would find something to change that if it cost him his life.

All Jaemin knows is that it must be some early hour of the morning- about three perhaps. According to Doyoung, it is not quite two days’ sail to reach Ba Sing Se, which Yangyang believes should amount to under a day by flying bison time. If he happens to be right, they should be arriving sometime before seven.

Just in time for breakfast.

His stomach rumbles.

“Bit early for that, isn’t it?”

Jaemin’s head snaps at the unexpected question.

Renjun smiles back at him, mirth shining in his dark eyes. “Ba Sing Se has wonderful food. We’ll be there in about three hours, if you can wait that long.”

Renjun’s eyes travel over Jeno’s sleeping form, the firebender slumped over the right side of Jaemin’s body, lashes fanned prettily over his sharp cheekbones. In his sleep, Jeno looks uncharacteristically sweet. Sharing a bed with Jaemin back at the Foggy Swamp Tribe seemed to have loosened Jeno up somewhat. Thankfully he hadn’t protested at all when faced with the fact that the new arrangement would mean much closer quarters than before.

“How-how do you know that?” Jaemin utters a silent prayer to the sky, grateful that the new waterbender cannot see the flush across his cheeks that spread as a result of Renjun catching his stomach’s protest.

“Doyoung and I typically rise at four.” Renjun stretches his arms over his head, yawning wide. “Although he doesn’t seem to be getting up any time soon.”

They look over to Doyoung now, whose legs are now hanging off the side of the saddle while his upper body lies between Jaehyun’s splayed legs, Doyoung’s cheek smooshed against the blonde boy’s thigh.

“He won’t be happy when he wakes up,” Jaemin smiles tiredly. He yawns again, wondering what possessed him to wake up at such an hour.

Renjun chuckles. “No, he will not. But it will make me happy.” He runs his hands through his brown hair as he studies Jaemin’s face, aware of the other boy’s discomfort at the attention. “Go back to sleep, Nana. I’ll wake you when we arrive.”

The soft-spoken order speaks to Jaemin’s very soul, and he drifts off seconds later.

“UGH! GET OFF OF ME!”

Jaemin’s eyes flash open in fear. “The Fire Nation-”

Beside him, Jeno gives him a flat look. “Try Water Tribe.”

Under the blue morning sky, Doyoung appeared to be wrestling a very amused Jaehyun- a one-sided fight to say the least. Doyoung’s fists hail down on Jaehyun’s chest, and Jaehyun appears to be only grabbing his wrists for show.

“This is harassment!” Doyoung yells.

“If I remember correctly, it was you lying on top of me.”

The look on Renjun’s face was one of pure enjoyment. He smiles sheepishly at Jaemin. “I would’ve woken you up but it happened quite suddenly.”

“You don’t say,” glares Jeno.

“Don’t worry, Jen!”

Yangyang bounces into the saddle with his usual ear-to-ear grin splitting his sweet face. He throws an arm out to gesture somewhere below them. “Everyone has to get up anyway! We’ve arrived at Ba Sing Se!”

The train doors _ding_ as they open up, and the group exits the train quickly, not having anything beyond the coins safely bagged beneath Doyoung, Xiaojun and Renjun’s coats. It’s much warmer in Ba Sing Se than the cold of the Foggy Swamp, and Doyoung decides that finding new clothing must be prioritised. In their own Tribe’s clothing, Jaemin and Jaehyun appear to feel the same way. 

Only Yangyang in his floaty orange and yellow robes seems to be completely fine, his face turned happily to the sun.

They pause on the platform to take in the magnitude of Ba Sing Se. Sand-toned walls and green rooves stretch as far as the eye can see, with buildings rising to high towers towards the middle, and then in the Upper Ring, as Doyoung calls it, stands the massive castle of the Earth King.

While the city sprawls out for miles, Doyoung had been adamant that Hutong would be safer left outside the walls, citing his past travels to Ba Sing Se to uphold this reasoning, so Yangyang had circled the forest until he found a place with fresh grass and a flowing river. Without the bison to worry about, the group make their way down the station steps and into the Lower Ring, the first part of the city lying behind the great protective wall keeping the Fire Nation out.

Jaemin claps his hands together, facing the rest of them. “So, avatar, what’s the plan? How do we meet the King?” 

“I don’t have a plan,” Yangyang says unhelpfully. He shrugs, grinning widely. “We can figure this all out together.”

Jaemin sighs.

The city is bustling with life as they move through the crowd, and Jaehyun looks around with bright eyes as he takes in the sights and smells. “You know, I was pretty mad about leaving home but this is all pretty interesting.”

Before he can take another step, Doyoung wraps an arm around Jaehyun’s waist and pulls him to his side forcefully.

“What?”

“You must watch your step around here,” Doyoung hisses. Jaehyun’s eyes lose some of their spark, and he feels a little guilty. “That man made to rob you.”

Jaehyun follows Doyoung’s gaze to a man leaning against a stall ahead of them. The sun winks on cold metal, a dagger peeking from his waistband.

“The Lower Ring of Ba Sing Se is not all like the rest of this city,” Doyoung says lowly. “The walls that protect Ba Sing Se are only the first level. This place is giant, and contains many layers. Some of the walls are to keep the poor poor, and the rich in comfort.”

“Ah.”

Doyoung hums, giving the water tribe boy a onceover. “Do you carry anything of value?”

“Just my boomerang,” frowns Jaehyun. “But that is only of value to me.”

Doyoung nods by way of reply. He hadn’t been sure of what to expect from Jaehyun, but from what he can tell the man seems to be good at travelling light, even if Jaehyun doesn’t bother to take care in other situations. He had never met anyone like Jaehyun before- or Jaemin, really- two people with such limited knowledge of the world outside their home until recently. Everyone in his own tribe had travelled before, be it for supplies or simply for the sake of it before the Fire Nation properly cracked down. The brothers unsettle him somewhat, Jaemin with his strength and determination in the face of every new trial, and Jaehyun with his unfailing ability to bounce back from inconvenient circumstances.

His lazy attitude irks Doyoung, yes. But Doyoung had never met anyone who wasn’t afraid of him, and Jaehyun’s playful, flirtatious attentions are a breath of fresh air to Doyoung.

_It helps that he’s vexingly attractive,_ Doyoung thinks sourly.

A tap on the shoulder drags him from his thoughts, and Doyoung turns to find Jaemin watching him inquisitively.

“Yes?”

“We need to find a place to stay. So we can get on with speaking to the King. Do you have an idea of somewhere we can go?”

Doyoung presses his lips together tightly. “I know someone I can ask.”

The group crowd around him, and Doyoung tries not to focus on Jaehyun’s close proximity.

“How do you know you can trust this person?” Yangyang questions. “We should stick to ourselves until we find a way to speak with the King.”

Doyoung mutters something under his breath.

“What?”

“I know someone who can get us to the King,” Doyoung repeats through gritted teeth.

Renjun’s shoulders shake as he begins to laugh, unable to speak as he points at his elder friend before resorting to silent seal-clapping.

“Shut up,” Doyoung orders menacingly.

Renjun continues to wheeze.

“Who is it?” Jaemin takes over, not trusting Renjun to be able to carry on the conversation. “Do you know where we can find him?”

“Oh, he does,” Renjun cackles.

“Doyoung?”

Doyoung hangs his head in surrender. “We need to go to the city’s Upper Ring. Let’s find new clothes for now. He should have a break sometime after midday.”

“There is an establishment to teach earthbenders fighting techniques, yet they are not allowed to fight alongside those outside the wall being oppressed by the Fire Nation. What is the point?”

Yangyang wears a disappointed expression as he looks about the training centre’s ground floor. The room is lined with wooden doors, all of them open to let in the afternoon breeze and sunlight. It is simple and neat, with blue exercise mats set along the floor. Outside, the gentle rush of water sounds from the large fountain bubbling into the large pond riddled with orange and white koi fish.

“I asked the same thing the last time I was here,” Doyoung smiles sadly. “And the next week they closed the city off entirely.”

“Will the King even see me?”

For the first time since they’ve met, Doyoung sees something akin to fear in the young avatar’s eyes- the truth that his mission will not be easy, as Yangyang has known all along but has tried so hard to push back, to keep a light attitude for his own sanity and for that of everyone else. It is impossible to ignore Yangyang’s bravery and kindness, because as Doyoung realises, everything he does is rooted in kindness: his anger, his laughter, his ideals. For Yangyang to act, he first thinks of the world, and then himself.

The kind of leader Doyoung has spent years waiting for.

“The King will see you,” Doyoung promises firmly, “because he must see you.”

His words give Yangyang enough hope that the avatar swallows and blinks away the tears forming in his big brown eyes.

“This way,” Doyoung snaps his fingers, walking toward the elevator ahead of them. He pays no attention to the receptionist’s cries, ushering in the rest of the group quickly before selecting the third floor.

With a quick whoosh downwards, the elevator dings open and they file out together into a completely underground arena, ringing out with shouts of battle.

The training floor is made of dirt only, with blocks of stone being used to throw and shatter. Forty earthbenders replicate the same actions, practising punches and kicks to break through the materials.

The boys line up along the arena’s fence, glued to the scene below. In contrast to the green robes the boys had managed to find cheaply, the students mostly wear singlets or no shirts, along with shorts or loose pants in shades of greys, browns and greens. Xiaojun instantly starts talking about finding a pair of pants as soon as they see some available, uncomfortable without his usual pants. Yangyang, still wearing his sandy pants and orange and yellow robes, giggles cheekily.

“Doyoung?”

Doyoung whips round to his left, faced with a wide-eyed boy with short black hair wearing a grey singlet and dark green pants.

“Mark?” Doyoung asks, equally surprised. He shakes himself, realising he doesn’t actually have a reason to be surprised at their meeting, given Mark always goes to the arena. “Ahem, I mean, hello Mark. How are you?”

“Who is Mark and why are you being so awkward,” Jaehyun murmurs by Doyoung’s ear.

The hairs on Doyoung’s neck stand on end. He slaps Jaehyun away.

“Mark is a… a friend.”

Mark grins. “Indeed.” He nods to the rest of the group. “Mark Lee, welcome to Ba Sing Se. And Renjun, nice to see you again.”

Renjun returns an equally mischievous smile. “Likewise.”

They wait for Doyoung to speak again, but Renjun’s impatience takes over.

“We’re here to see Johnny. It’s important.”

“You’re quite right, the return of the avatar is incredibly important.”

A tall, well-built man with floppy brown hair walks toward them, long legs taking the stairs two at a time. He waves his hand. “I told the class to continue as they were.” He moves to Mark’s side, eyeing Doyoung with an unidentifiable glint in his eye. “Doyoung. I didn’t think you’d be back any time soon.”

“Neither did I.”

“Johnny Seo,” Johnny introduces himself with a friendly smile. His expression turns to one of admiration as he fixes on Yangyang. “I’m guessing by the orange robes that you’re the avatar in the papers scaring the shit out of the Fire Nation.”

Yangyang smiles a gummy smile. “My name is Yangyang. Doyoung tells me you can help me get in touch with the King.”

Johnny exhales as his gaze lands on Doyoung once more, who shrugs awkwardly.

“Things have changed a great deal here lately,” Johnny says, ruffling a hand through Mark’s hair. “But I want to help. Let me finish up with today’s class, and we can sort something out.” He looks back to Doyoung. “Our usual group has some… new company staying with us. We’ll get you something close by.”

Doyoung bows in thanks, eyes following Johnny back down into the arena.

“Where’s Lucas?” Renjun asks Mark. “Don’t you have class together?”

Mark shakes his head. “We both quit.”

Noting both Renjun and Doyoung’s surprise, Mark is quick to shake his head. “With the Fire Nation’s power over my village, I have to work to send money home. And Lucas prefers working. We drop by the arena when we have time to train, which is a few hours a week, like today we got the afternoon off. I was coming to pick up Johnny to come to lunch with us.”

“Is Lucas with the people Johnny mentioned?”

“Yes,” Mark nods. “Brothers from outside the walls, they arrived a few days ago. They’re… chaotic.”

Renjun narrows his eyes. “Is that good or bad?”

Mark shrugs. “We like them.”

“They’re good looking, aren’t they?”

Mark reddens under Doyoung’s knowing watch. “I mean… yeah… but-”

“But nothing,” Doyoung rolls his eyes. He looks thoughtful. “Is Johnny…?”

“No. I don’t think so.”

Doyoung hums.

“I hate to interrupt,” Jaehyun breaks in, not appearing to mind interrupting in the least, “but I am _starving_.” He ignores Doyoung’s muttered comment of _when are you not_ and clutches his stomach dramatically. “Xiaojun was just talking about the perfectly smoked salmon we had for dinner the other night and if I don’t eat soon I’m gonna-”

“We have a great place,” Mark promises. “And alcohol too if you’re down for that.”

Xiaojun knits his brows together. “Maybe we shouldn’t. If we’re speaking to the King we should probably be in good form.”

The rest of the group nod in agreement, only for Mark to shake his head sagely. “Johnny meant it when he said things have changed. I’d say the quickest you can get to the King is probably in two weeks.”

The boys gasp at the news, Yangyang looking particularly stressed.

Jaemin raises his palms up, calling for everyone’s attention.

“Maybe we can’t see the King as quickly as we wanted,” he says calmly. “But the Fire Nation isn’t going to start doing anything worse than they’re already doing now. We should take this time to rest and prepare ourselves, because we don’t know when we’ll get this time again.”

“Nana’s right.”

Jeno speaks for the first time in hours. He crosses his arms over his chest, and Jaemin realises how much less imposing the firebender looks with his usually bare arms hidden beneath the flowing green sleeves of his Earth Kingdom attire. “Once the avatar enters the battlefield there’ll be no going back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hhhh ive been quite busy but here i am hfjhgh 
> 
> the dojae is starting up now :))) idk if anyone picked up on a hint from the first earth chapter abt doyoung and renjun's first trip there but ;)) 
> 
> for those of you who watched the show i obviously ditched the kidnapped appa storyline because im not following the exact story and will be focusing on the human characters, not baby hutong. there'll be one or two more chapters of set up before we move into the actual war, and then those who havent been introduced will be and there'll be a lot more interactions between everyone in different places 
> 
> as always thank u for reading <333 love all ur comments and kudos very muchly <333


	12. bathhouse bending

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a month in ba sing se; there's a new arrival sicheng and yuta are happy to see while others might be less than pleased. jeno has some hard questions for jaemin. doyoung wonders why fate (or five annoying boys) keeps pushing him into jaehyun's way and jungwoo might be asking questions he doesnt want answers to

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah the bois so this is a much larger chapter than usual, not much kun and taeil but dont worry i have proper plotlines for every character they just take a bit of build up to get to! there might be smth messy w this bc its 5 am and im half asleep but ill go through it when im up <333

By their third week in Ba Sing Se, Yuta and Sicheng had finally made the move from the Lower Ring to the Upper, albeit a tiny room on the bottom floor by a loud gymnasium. Sicheng had been content to remain put, but Yuta declared he’d drown himself in the dingy bathhouse attached to their filthy, tiny room if they stayed any longer.

They’d been able to leave their apartment, and enjoy it, now that the outside isn’t fraught with the dangers of the Lower Ring. But the two still had to be careful, especially Yuta, who was prone to losing his temper fast. Sicheng had been the one to leave their room to get food, to prevent any issues that might stem from Yuta’s possible fury, and additionally because nobody can go unnoticed in a crowd better than Dong Sicheng when he wants to.

Besides that, Yuta’s face is far too recognizable. Yes, his hair has steadily grown out- not to mention Sicheng had become annoyingly obsessed with the new style, to both Yuta’s pleasure and chagrin- but the scar burned into the left side of the face is not something likely to go unnoticed by the hyper-alert Earth Kingdom citizens.

In light of this, their activities have been restricted to spending their days inside. Between naps, Yuta tosses up scenarios where he captures the avatar and returns home to be welcomed back by his father; Sicheng listens to him every time, lying back on their shared mattress, drawing pictures in his mind across the ceiling while conveying his interest in Yuta’s fantasies with an occasional hand squeeze or nudging his chin over Yuta’s shoulder.

Visiting the regular Ba Sing Se attractions are out of the question. No bathhouses, no massage parlours. They frequent one tavern for their dinners, and the time spent at their tiny table tucked away behind steamy bowls of noodles and tea in a corner is something they’ve come to cherish. 

When evening falls, the two venture out on adventures. On cooler nights, they can sneak out as early as dusk, Sicheng taking care to tug Yuta’s hooded cloak further down over the tell-tale burn on the left side of his face. Warmer evenings lead them to searching for koi ponds; Sicheng has a fascination with the bright orange fish. He tells Yuta that when they return home, he’ll ask a face-painter at one of the fire festivals to paint the koi on their cheeks, and Yuta can’t deny Sicheng anything when his eyes are alight with a million stars, so he grudgingly agrees.

Now at dawn, Sicheng stretches lazily as he awakens. Beside him, Yuta, already up, watches as Sicheng rolls over and pulls himself up to the window sill to peer through the blinds, bed sheets slipping down his naked torso.

For a few moments, Sicheng silently watches the city waking up outside. The birds’ chirping gives way to low chatter and the tinny sounds of tools on metal at construction sites, and Yuta remains quiet enough just to listen. 

Daybreak paints the streets golden. It seeps through the blinds to bathe the two men in warmth, hot enough for Yuta to shake himself free of one of the extra blankets Sicheng had placed over him at some point, knowing how Yuta struggles to keep warm overnight.

Yuta’s gaze travels down Sicheng’s back, beginning at the slender nape of his neck, over the slope of his shoulders, down the column of his spine and… _what the hell. _

He catches himself in his own thoughts, nose wrinkling in annoyance. It had been happening far too often lately- _intrusive thoughts_, Yuta reassures himself. It was bound to happen. Yuta isn’t blind; Sicheng is beautiful. He would be more worried if being locked up with Sicheng for three weeks _hadn’t_ resulted in his eye straying toward his best friend a few times. At least it showed he still had some train of thought that wasn’t focused on finding the avatar.

Though he’ll always refuse to admit it aloud, Sicheng keeps him sane.

Or, as sane as Yuta can be, at least.

Across the street, a new figure maneuvers through the crowd of morning workers. It’s his feet that Sicheng notices first, sleek, black, laced-up knee-high boots almost dancing rather than walking, then up to his clothes- grey and brown, not the colours Sicheng is used to seeing him in- and then at last his face, tell-tale smirk carved into his feline features.

“He’s here,” Sicheng beams, pulling away from the window. He flips over to face Yuta, running a hand through his bed-mussed curls. Yuta’s heart stutters. “Not a Jisung in sight.”

*

“I don’t understand why it’s always us who have to go out and get breakfast. Just because _I_ didn’t come up with the brilliant idea to lie and say I’m the avatar to get special treatment.”

Mark stares at Haechan incredulously, brows creasing further when Haechan responds only with a toss of his orange hair. “You don’t think Yangyang is the avatar?” He snorts. “You couldn’t fool us. The only reason we believed Yangyang in the first place is because he _can_ airbend.”

Now Haechan snorts. “I can do anything th-”

He’s cut off when Jungwoo claps a hand over his mouth, eyes large and apologetic as he smiles at Mark. Jungwoo pulls Haechan out into the tavern hallway and closes their door, mindful of Mark’s hearing range.

“Haechan if you fuck this up for me, I will slaughter you,” Jungwoo whispers. He places his hands on his brother’s shoulders, nails digging into the flesh even through Haechan’s robes.

Haechan curls his lip. “Your smile is unnerving when you’re threatening me at the same time.”

“That’s the point.” Jungwoo sighs, rubbing his temples out of a tiredness with the world, not lack of sleep. “They don’t trust us yet, Haechan. It’s been almost a month and they still don’t. But we’ve left home to find the avatar and the avatar is Yangyang.”

“Suspicious.”

“Haechan, he has whack tattoos and came out of a ball of ice looking for his Fire Nation pals.”

“He could be lying.”

“Haechan.”

“I could get tattoos and fly around on a stick and then I’d be the avatar.”

“_Haechan_.”

“Fine.” Haechan sticks out his lower lip. “But I’m not gonna be nice to Mark just because you tell me to. _He’s_ not the avatar.”

Jungwoo rolls his eyes. “A compromise then. You be good to Yangyang and you can… _annoy_ Mark a little. Not a single overstep that makes Johnny or Lucas look at me any longer than they have to.”

“You literally sleep with them.”

“We _share a bed_,” Jungwoo corrects, cheeks aflame. “Just as you do with Mark. And I mean as in an accusing look, like ‘why is your evil brother bullying our sweet Mark again’, that type of look.” He pouts at Haechan. “Please just do this for me? For us?”

Haechan looks up at his brother’s pleading face properly now, and Jungwoo can see a trace of remorse swirling around in Haechan’s usually unaffected grey eyes.

“Okay. I’ll get the damn breakfast.”

“And you won’t bully Mark.”

“I will only semi-bully Mark,” Haechan amends solemnly. Heedless of Jungwoo’s resigned exhale, he continues, “I still don’t see why the other boys can’t get breakfast instead.”

Jungwoo shrugs. “Mark’s a local. He knows good food and good deals and you are staying with Mark, so why not? Besides, Doyoung told me last night they’re having a rest day today. They won’t be joining us.”

Haechan acknowledges this with a barely perceptible nod.

Behind them, the door opens again, this time revealing a fully dressed Johnny, and Mark tentatively peeping around the tall man’s body.

“Good morning, Haechan,” Johnny grins happily. He steps into the hall, and Mark follows. “I’m feeling energetic this morning, so I’m coming with you to the market.”

Jungwoo and Haechan exchange a Look between them.

“Sounds great,” Haechan mutters.

Jungwoo smiles at Mark. “Haechan’s just messing around,” Jungwoo shakes his head, allowing a small smile to tug at his lips to give Mark the impression that they’re both in on the joke. He releases Haechan, ruffling his brother’s hair and giving his back a gentle pat to send him off. “Haechannie can be awfully lazy, isn’t that right?”

Haechan glares.

“You can go get breakfast now,” Jungwoo says sweetly. “Haechan won’t cause any more trouble.”

Johnny claps his hands together. “Fantastic! Let’s go boys!”

*

Doyoung wakes up with his face half-smushed into his pillow. There’s a weight on his back, which he blearily registers is Jaehyun’s arm around him.

Of course it had happened this way; of course Doyoung had firstly embarrassed himself on flight to Ba Sing Se, falling asleep and waking up across Jaehyun’s thighs. It only made sense that Jaemin would insist on sharing a bed with Jeno instead of his brother, when Doyoung had lain out a perfect bed plan as it was: Jaehyun and Jaemin in the double bed in the small room, Yangyang and Jeno in the other double in the next room and in that same room, Doyoung, Xiaojun and Renjun could share. That was a sound plan. Doyoung may as well be Renjun’s brother, right? And Xiaojun was from the same tribe, so that should make them essentially cousins, right? But no, Jaemin went rogue, so it followed that everybody else would go off the rails and land Doyoung right back in Jaehyun’s lap.

Or bed, anyway.

Which of course was worse.

Doyoung groans, rolling over to his side to poke Jaehyun or pinch him awake, in a testy mood for no good reason he can think of.

He’s met with Jaehyun’s handsome face trying to bite back a grin, and all five boys from the next room huddled in the small space between Jaehyun’s side of the bed and the wall, each looking as if they’ll burst into laughter any minute.

Doyoung spots the black paint brush in Yangyang’s hand.

“No.”

Yangyang loses it, snorting so loudly that it triggers the others into collapsing into giggles on the floor, and Doyoung’s hands fly to his face. 

His hands come away stained with black.

“I was going to stop them, but you looked so peaceful,” Jaehyun offers, chuckling as Doyoung looks at him wildly, fluffy black curls sticking up in a million different directions. He begins to smooth them out, only for Doyoung to slap his hand away.

“No,” Doyoung orders. “You don’t get to do that after you just _let_ these _savages_\- UGH!”

In a manic rush, the five boys pile out the door, narrowly dodging the hail of pillows and shoes Doyoung hurls after them. Something smacks hard against the wall, followed by Doyoung cursing amidst Jaehyun’s peal of laughter.

Renjun leans against the door, trying to get his breath back as he calms down. “Making fun of Doyoung does not have an expiry date,” he observes through gasping laughter. “Let’s leave before he comes out with Jaehyun’s boomerang or something.”

The walk to the marketplace is a quick one. It’s a sunny morning, and with Doyoung’s permission- permission Yangyang argued they did not need but still seemed scared to properly contest it- the boys are taking the opportunity to spend some of their saved money on various treatments throughout the city. Lucas and Mark listed off some of their favourite places and the boys hope to try at least one each. Jaemin is especially interested in trying out a bathhouse, determined to take the opportunity to waterbend if at all possible.

Renjun scans the markets, pointing out an intricate mural vase to Jaemin with a pretty symbol on it that bears some semblance to Jaemin’s tribe’s symbol. Jaemin, arms linked on either side with Jeno and Yangyang, simply lets Renjun lift the vase alone while looking it over. He ignores the odd looks from the store owner and they continue on their way.

“I’m not even sick of cabbage yet,” Yangyang remarks, sounding surprised by his own words.

Jeno utters a non-committal hum. “I definitely am.”

“Don’t say that in front of Taeil,” Jaemin laughs. He breaks off when Jeno casually relaxes his elbow to slip from Jaemin’s to reach out for Jaemin’s hand, intertwining their fingers and squeezing his hand for the briefest of seconds.

Before Jaemin can squeeze back, Jeno’s hand is already gone.

“Do you think Kun will have more of that moon peach pie?” Xiaojun narrows his eyes at Jeno. “Because last time Jeno and Jaehyun guzzled it down before I even got a second piece.”

Jeno shrugs. “I don’t regret anything.”

“There were four pies.”

“Regret. Nada.”

During their first week in Ba Sing Se, Taeil had promised that if the five of them helped him with sales and deliveries, he would allow the boys to accompany him to the palace for its weekly delivery. After making said delivery, Taeil routinely turns down an unused passage to the Prince’s quarters, where Kun has a room set up to eat with his friends when it’s impossible to escape the palace. Not only were the boys all enraptured by Kun’s kindness and fatherly tendencies toward them, but there was also something particularly satisfying about sneaking unnoticed through the city’s most secure building with the King still putting off seeing them for close to a month.

Halfway through Xiaojun’s decision to sing a campfire song from home, Jeno utters a strange noise and stands stock still, staring straight ahead.

“Jen?” Jaemin shakes Jeno’s arm, trying to shake him out of his stupor. He cranes his neck over the crowd, exclaiming when he spots Jeno’s target. “Oh, Mark and Haechan!”

Without another word, he and Yangyang dash off toward Taeil’s cabbage stand, where Taeil is conversing with Johnny, Mark and Haechan, as well as one more person, a stranger. 

A stranger Jeno is fixated on.

“Who is that?” Xiaojun asks, looking to Renjun. “Have you met him before?”

Renjun shakes his head. “Never seen him before.”

He waits until Xiaojun makes his way over to the stall until he speaks again. Then Renjun turns to Jeno, tilting his head up to look the taller boy square in the eye.

“You know him.”

Jeno blinks, then shakes his entire body aggressively. “No I don’t.”

“You do,” Renjun insists. Internally, he wishes for a moment that he wasn’t such a pushy person. Whatever. “You’re staring at him like he’s got a weapon trained on you. Is he dangerous? Did he hurt you?”

“No!”

“No, what?”

“No… no. I don’t know who that is.” Jeno huffs. “I just zoned out, okay? Calm down.”

He stalks off toward the cabbage stand, Renjun swiftly on his heels. When they arrive, the stranger is laughing loudly with the rest at one of Taeil’s jokes, likely another dig at Johnny judging by the cabbage Taeil appears to be gleefully stuffing down the large man’s shirt while Haechan and Yangyang collapse in stitches beside him. Jaemin, crying tears of his own, is bending over to pull a cackling Xiaojun up off the ground.

Johnny smiles brightly at the two newcomers, immediately gesturing to the slight stranger beside him, who assumes a brilliant smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Jeno, Renjun…”

“I’m Ten. A pleasure to meet you.” 

*

“Okay, I don’t like any form of animal cruelty but if that lemur gets us into trouble one more time for stealing I’m going to put it on a leash.”

Yangyang gasps in shock, pressing a hand to his chest as his eyes rake over Xiaojun’s face. “You’re serious, aren’t you?” He plucks Momo from his shoulder and cradles in his arms, producing a moon peach from his pocket and smiling when the lemur starts gobbling it down. “Momo is a _she_, not an _it_, thank you very much.”

Xiaojun rolls his eyes at his friend’s glare, turning down a new street as he does so. They’d mostly only shopped for food during their time in Ba Sing Se, all the boys well aware of how pointless it would be to buy anything more than clothes with durability, and certainly all of the cool machines and trinkets were out of the question. Hutong’s saddle was full enough with humans alone; necessary supplies would have to do.

Luckily, even the sight of the wonderful earth market tinkerings provides ample entertainment for them all, and Xiaojun and Yangyang were content to spend the entire afternoon adventuring here, feeling energized after their morning appointment at a massage parlour Mark had recommended to them.

“Where’d you get that moon peach from, anyway?”

“I stole it from Jeno’s stash,” Yangyang grins. “I have two left on me.”

Xiaojun’s brows knit in confusion. “Any reason Jeno has a stash… of moon peaches?”

“You make it sound like drugs.”

Xiaojun scoffs. “You gotta admit, it’s an odd thing to stash.”

“Stop saying stash.”

Xiaojun laughs, almost bumping into a man walking past. The man curses at him, which Xiaojun returns just as nastily, and the two boys hang on to each other in hysterics as the man stalks away.

“You’re ridiculous,” Yangyang wipes a tear from his eye. He allows Xiaojun to link their arms together and drag them toward another stall, this one a mechanical stall of sorts, with little wooden boats and trains that wind up and drive themselves. “Jeno’s favourite food is moon peaches. He said he always bakes them into fruit pies with his mother back home, so we- Renjun, Jaemin and I- thought it would be nice to buy him some.” He winces. “Admittedly, I think we went a bit far, but it was worth the look on his face.”

Xiaojun makes a strange noise. “I thought it was _Jaemin_ you liked.”

“What?” Yangyang flushes, yanking himself free of Xiaojun’s grip. “Who said that?”

“Uh, I mean Jaehyun regularly makes digs at you over it, for starters,” Xiaojun shrugs. He continues on, ignoring Yangyang hissing and punching the air while cursing Jaehyun out. “And secondly, you don’t really try to hide it. You wear your emotions on your sleeve, kid.”

Yangyang glares. “Don’t ‘kid’ me, you’re not much older than me.”

“Still a baby.”

Yangyang pokes out his tongue.

“And that,” Xiaojun laughs, “is exactly the type of thing I’m talking about. Here, look.”

He lifts up a palm-sized boat toy, small and green and very cute, something that would be fun to set down in the water back home.

The stall owner, an elderly woman with long white hair winding down her shoulder in a braid, smiles kindly at them. “It’s sweet isn’t it?”

“It is,” Yangyang agrees. He shoots Xiaojun a look, questioning the waterbender’s decision to pick up the toy.

But Xiaojun isn’t looking back at him. Instead, his gaze is fixed on the green boat, only Yangyang can see that he’s not really looking; he’s somewhere else entirely.

“I’ll come back for it.” Xiaojun places the boat into the woman’s outstretched palm. “Keep it safe for me.”

The woman’s eye twinkles. “Of course. Take care, Xiaojun.”

She waves as the two walk away, and Xiaojun waves back until the stall is out of sight.

Yangyang turns to him in confusion. “You know her? How?”

Xiaojun hums, moving toward a flower stall. He crouches down in front of a bouquet of strangely dyed blue roses, lashes dusting his cheeks as he smells them. Then he rises to his feet and takes Yangyang’s hand once more, swinging it gently as they continue on.

“I like to talk to her when I come here alone.” Xiaojun says softly. “She gives good advice. Keeps secrets. I promised to come back to see her when everything is over.”

Neither of them mention that they don’t know when “everything” will be over. They don’t know what will happen, how the inevitable war will escalate, or how damaged they’ll be by the end of it.

But the sentiment is nice enough, and Yangyang catches on to any small form of hope he can.

“And then you’ll buy that boat.”

“And then I will buy that boat.”

Yangyang smiles softly. “Is it for someone back home?”

“Oh no,” Xiaojun shakes his head. “For someone waiting for me, up in the clouds. When it’s safe, the first thing we will do is buy that boat and float it across a pond. Until then, Luna will keep it safe.”

*

The bathhouse towering above Jaemin and Jeno came recommended by Lucas and Mark, who had proudly informed the boys that they were amongst the workers responsible for the fresh pine green paint now coating the walls of the lobby and several massage rooms. (Lucas had also smugly mentioned getting laid in the hotel rooms on the upper levels, the rooms only affordable to rich people. Mark it seemed, had not been so lucky.)

There is a constant bustle of customers going in and out, robes of greens, greys and browns blending in against the green tiled rooves and gold-lined shades of grey that make up the outer appearance of the opulent structure. The midday sun burns down on them, and Jeno gently nudges Jaemin’s lower back to walk to the front entrance.

“Let’s head inside before one of the others sees us and drags everyone here with us,” Jeno smiles, waiting for Jaemin to stop blinking and actually move.

After a beat, Jaemin nods. “Right, yes.” He lightly slaps his hand against his own cheek. “I just zoned out there for a minute.”

“I can see that,” Jeno chuckles.

Jaemin reddens and takes off briskly to the front desk, chattering away to the bathhouse owner before Jeno reaches him.

In a matter of minutes, the two boys are escorted to a bath toward the end of one of the larger halls, pleased to note that the nearest occupied bath was in the next hall, and with a crowd of five loud Earth Kingdom citizens that would likely hold most of the employee’s attention.

With the secrecy afforded them by the linen walls around each bath, Jaemin immediately begins to waterbend, eyes shining as he creates the form of Hutong with the water.

“I’ve missed this,” Jaemin laughs. “My hands practically itch to bend every time I see even a glass of water.” He waves his hands to send water-Hutong flying a loop around them one more time, then lets the shape fall back into the bath.

Jeno claps his hands together happily. “Now, Momo.”

“Ah, yes,” Jaemin snaps his fingers and proceeds to conjure up the likeness of the lemur, and the two boys dissolve into laughter as Jaemin guides the watery lemur to hover by Jeno’s side.

“Moon peaches,” Jeno tries to say seriously as he scoops up a mass of bubbles to dump on water-Momo.

“Don’t over-feed him,” Jaemin giggles. He bats Jeno’s hand away, and the loss of concentration results in water-Momo crashing back into the bath and splashing up over both their faces.

“You killed her!” Jeno accuses. He paws at the bubbles on his face, coughing at the few that managed to slip into his mouth. He leans down to search frantically for the water lemur, looking up at Jaemin dramatically. “I can’t even find the body.”

“Shut up!”

They spend the next hour talking, swimming around and joking around with Jaemin’s waterbending. At one point, a bath attendant almost caught the two experimenting with heating the water of their own accord: Jeno’s palm aflame beneath the suspended ball of water Jaemin controls. It had worked well, to their surprise and excitement, although the attendant’s sudden presence had required the two to quickly stick their hands back in the bath while assuring the woman they were perfectly fine.

Jeno knits his brows, still staring at the sheets from which the bath attendant had passed through, a faraway expression on his face.

“What’s wrong?”

The sound of Jaemin’s voice brings Jeno out of his reverie.

“We work so well together,” Jeno says after a moment. His bottom lip catches on his teeth. “Our bending, I mean. There’s so many things we could do with it.”

Jaemin tilts his head. “Like?”

“Well, a bathhouse for one.” Jeno spreads his arms to gesture around them. He laughs quietly, but the sound is laced with bitterness. “What we just did, we could open our own bathhouse. Operate it with just our bending.”

His words catch fire in Jaemin’s mind, and Jaemin finds himself visualizing the two of them sitting together on the edge of a bath, assisting with temperatures and attending to customers with ease. His robes baby blue, like the ones he wore on his ninth birthday before he lost his mother. And Jeno, handsome in… red.

A variation of the red clothes hidden in Jeno’s bag back in their room at the tavern.

Jaemin can’t put dream-Jeno back into green, despite the fact that almost a month has passed without Jeno wearing any red at all.

What Jeno is trying to say, Jaemin realises, is that everybody can work well together. Fire and water, earth and air. Jaemin can’t separate Jeno from his firebending any more than he can tear himself away from waterbending. And he should feel scared, should be fearful of this Fire Nation soldier.

But he isn’t.

How can he be, when Jeno’s kept him so grounded since leaving home; how can he, when it’s Jeno’s eyes on him right now, locking him in place just so?

“Do you sometimes forget who I am, Nana?”

Jeno’s gaze accompanying the question is steady, focused despite the steam slowing down Jaemin’s senses. Some tension seeps into Jaemin’s shoulders, and he wills it away, rolling them and then his neck, too. The goal in coming here to this bathhouse was to relax, mind and body- a rarity until the last few days, and it’s something that all the boys have tried to make the most of. Once they meet with the King, there will no longer be any off days.

“Forget who you are?” Jaemin mulls it over, then shakes his head once. He knows Jeno is angling for a deeper meaning. So he bites. “How do you mean?”

“Do you forget that I’m a soldier? A citizen of the Fire Nation?”

His tone is serious, Jaemin knows. He can’t tell where Jeno is going with this, can only sense that persistent, ever-present feeling in his chest, the feeling that he wants to reassure Jeno somehow, any way he can.

“Well-”

“Do you forget that I’m the enemy?”

Jeno’s words spill over the bubbling water fonts determinately, nothing daring to muffle his question. His gaze is hot and unyielding, and try as he does Jaemin cannot find the strength to look away.

Jaemin swallows. His tongue feels thick, and he exhales once, his breath a puff of smoke that rises with the bath steam.

“You’re not the enemy.” Jaemin’s voice comes out so quietly, he only knows Jeno has heard by the slight tremor of the other boy’s lips. He moves forward in the water, closer to Jeno, hardly noticing the increasing speed of his heart rate as he does so. “Not _my_ enemy. But always my soldier, my fire-hearted friend. Always the boy who does his best to match my ice with flame.” A smile graces Jaemin’s lips fleetingly, and he shakes his head once more. “Many, many things could happen to me, but forgetting who you are is not one of them.”

Something flickers in Jeno’s eyes, dark and alight at the same time. Jaemin realises that Jeno’s chest is heaving faster too, that Jeno’s jaw is tight as he reaches out to place a firm hand on Jaemin’s shoulder, tugging him through the water to search Jaemin’s eyes with his own.

“Jen?”

Jeno raises his jaw resolutely.

“If I’m wrong, at least forget this.”

“Jen, wh-”

His question disappears in his throat as Jeno’s lips press against his, plush and pillow soft. Something overtakes Jaemin, and he finds that he doesn’t hesitate at all as his hands wind into Jeno’s damp hair, the herbal scents of the bathhouse fading as Jeno’s distinct scent of firewood and moon peaches envelop Jaemin’s senses. Jeno’s hands move to touch him, one hand cupping his cheek and the other to the back of his head, gently deepening the kiss. It isn’t until Jaemin has to stop for air that his lashes flutter open- and Jeno is looking right back, an emotion that Jaemin can’t recognise flooding the pools of his dark eyes.

Jaemin gasps.

He pulls away as if burned, and the bath’s hot water splashes against the bath sides as Jaemin hits the ledge and blindly reaches for the white fluffy towel the attendant handed him, covering himself as he jumps upwards.

Jaemin’s face burns, and he tells himself it’s the bathhouse heat, but Jeno is watching him, waiting for him to say something, and he knows it’s more than that.

“Um,” Jaemin flounders, chest heaving now. “I-”

This is not ideal, not in the least.

“I have to go.”

And with that, he fled the bathhouse.

*

On the brink of sunset, Renjun finds himself in spy-mode from his position against an ivy-covered wall by the edge of a market. He’d found the loose grey pants he’d been after- Mark had told him which stall to get them from- and was on his way back to the tavern when he spotted Jeno, speaking to the cat-like man they’d encountered earlier in the morning. Ten.

Ten, who Jeno claimed not to know from a bar of soap, only they’d been speaking for the past ten minutes with a series of hand gestures and serious facial expressions that did not belong in a conversation between two people who had never met. Renjun is only disappointed he has no way to get closer.

“I understand,” Jeno’s voice rings out. Renjun narrows his eyes, finding the urgency in the fire nation boy’s tone unsettling.

Ten cocks his head, eyes scanning Jeno unabashedly. Two things Renjun has observed of Ten within the short span of meeting him: one, that Ten is bold in every way; sometimes it is funny, other times it is unnerving. And two, that Ten is powerful. His very energy alone speaks to this, but Renjun is sure there’s more to it. The upward tilt of his chin, the sense of expectancy whenever he speaks or watches someone- it warrants rank. _Whoever Ten is_, Renjun thinks, _he is Someone_.

“Dawn.” Ten’s lips curl around his words, always a hint of a smile. “Last chance, young one.”

He slips away, and Jeno turns around, walking right past where Renjun is hiding.

“What were you two talking about?”

Jeno freezes, eyes sliding to watch Renjun melt away from the wall. His jaw is clenched hard, and Renjun imagines his teeth must hurt somewhat.

“He asked for directions to his tavern,” Jeno says without so much as a blink. “I suppose he forgot.”

_Lying through his teeth_, Renjun muses. No matter, he’d come across the truth at some point. Things always find their way to him, regardless of whether Renjun wishes them to or not.

“Nana was looking for you.”

He waits for Jeno’s reply, studying the other boy carefully. In his earth robe disguise with his muscled figure concealed and with his black hair steadily growing longer, only Jeno’s sharp jawline remains left of the soldier image he maintained Renjun first met him. The ever-present fear in Jeno’s eyes had also begun to disappear these last weeks in Ba Sing Se, Renjun could see. It was clear from the first night that Jeno found the Earth Kingdom boys very entertaining, and he’d become steadily closer to the Water Tribe boys. He even seems closer with Yangyang, despite some lingering tension between them whenever Jaemin would choose between them for activities or simply sitting beside someone at a table.

Renjun has come to enjoy Jeno’s smile especially. Mostly because at first he never saw it, and now he misses it as soon as it disappears. From what he can tell, Jaemin and Yangyang feel the same way, with the two of them clinging to a joke that Jeno finds funny as if to milk it for any laugh it will bring forth from the Fire Nation boy.

But since Ten had arrived, the fear had crept back.

Renjun doesn’t like it at all.

“It’s late, Jen,” he says neutrally. “If we return to the tavern now we might make it back for one of Jaehyun’s ridiculous stories before bed. And then we can enjoy Doyoung beating the shit out of him.”

Jeno shakes his head. “Not yet. But you go ahead.”

He begins to walk away, so Renjun reaches out to grab his arm.

“Don’t do anything stupid, Jen.”

“You should sleep,” is Jeno’s robotic reply.

Renjun lets his hand fall to his side, and Jeno walks away without another word. Before long, his green robes are no longer discernable from the rest of the market-goers’ attire, and Renjun walks back to the tavern alone, deep in thought as the sun sinks behind him.

*

_Well, Jungwoo is decidedly drunk_, Lucas thinks as he packs away his cards. He says as much aloud whilst returning the cards to the trunk at the foot of his bed, twisting the lock back in place via earthbending.

From his place sprawled across their bed, Jungwoo begins giggling louder. His orange hair fans out across the palace-style emerald green sheets that Lucas’ brother Minho gifted him, and he has now discarded his green robes in favour of plain, loose brown pants and a white singlet. Jungwoo’s frame is long and lean, and without the usual sleeves covering his arms Lucas is free to admire the older man’s collarbones without obstruction.

Jungwoo notices him, and Lucas regrets his carelessness the moment Jungwoo arches a brow in his direction.

“Like what you see?” Jungwoo inquires teasingly.

Lucas reddens. “Time for bed, I think.” Ignoring Jungwoo’s flirtation was possibly the fastest hobby Lucas had ever picked up, now he thinks about it. He sheds his jacket and crosses the room to hang it back in the wardrobe, then remains behind the door to change into his comfortable pants for bed.

“Do you ever wear a shirt to bed?” Jungwoo asks as Lucas steps back out.

Jungwoo is upside down now, his torso hanging off the side of the bed. His bright hair brushes the floor, and Lucas tuts as he reaches down to pull his drunken roommate back up.

“You’ll dirty your hair like that,” Lucas chides. He hesitates before adding, “and no, not in summer. I overheat easily. But in winter when it is cold, I wear a shirt then.”

Jungwoo hums as if this information is the most interesting in the world.

“Shower now or in the morning?”

“Shower with you,” Jungwoo giggles again, making grabby hands at Lucas. In his attempt to reach him, Jungwoo falls flat on his face. “Oof,” he mumbles into the mattress. “I think I’m drunk.”

Lucas laughs loudly. “I think so, too. Come here.”

Jungwoo gladly picks himself up and, on all fours, crawls over to nestle beside Lucas. The last thing he sees before Lucas’ blows out the candle is fondness in Lucas’ large dark eyes, the kind that makes Jungwoo’s heart swell. With Lucas, Jungwoo would trust him with anything; Lucas couldn’t hide his emotions if it cost him his life.

There was something both reassuring and worrying about that knowledge, but Jungwoo is too drunk to dwell upon it.

He presses into Lucas’ side instead, resting his forehead against Lucas’ bare shoulder. “When do you think Johnny will come back?”

“I’m not sure,” Lucas replies. “He normally only stays out this late if he’s with us. But I don’t know what he’s doing with Ten.”

“Do you like Ten?”

Truthfully, Jungwoo is asking this to gain insight into Lucas’ view of himself, as well as Ten. Ten is beautiful and charming, yes, but Jungwoo had instantly felt there to be something more. He isn’t who he says he is, and Jungwoo knows this because he is neither is he. Holding secrets, Jungwoo believes, makes it all the more easier to decipher when someone else is concealing truths of their own.

But how would he explain something like that when Jungwoo himself is still a stranger to these Earth Kingdom boys?

Lucas’ voice is quiet when he speaks, weighted with thought. “I like Ten,” he says with finality. “He is witty and clever…. Interesting.”

His left hand plays with Jungwoo’s hair as he talks, and Jungwoo finds himself leaning into Lucas’ touch, unable to pull away.

“I tend to like everybody. I get along easily with others, and it’s no problem for me to interact with all sorts of people, every day. I’m happy-go-lucky and easily amused, so it’s not very surprising.”

Jungwoo offers a soft “mm” to indicate that he’s still listening. He shivers as Lucas’ hand falls from his hair to his shoulder, and then his waist, lingering lightly.

“And because of this, people tend to think I’m stupid, short-sighted. Someone easily fooled, an easy target.”

His words grow sharper to Jungwoo’s ears. Lucas retracts his hand, then flips onto his back, leaving Jungwoo feeling significantly colder… and unsettled. It no longer seems that Lucas is talking about Ten. Jungwoo suddenly wishes he hadn’t spoken at all.

“I’m always ten steps ahead,” Lucas’ voice rings out in the dark, calmly and lowly. “I won’t forfeit my happiness to wrestle with snakes.” 

_Ask and you shall receive,_ Jungwoo’s brain supplies mockingly.

Lucas coughs, following the silence up with a half-laugh. True to his word, the depth of the conversation doesn’t appear to affect him. “Goodnight, Jungwoo. Sleep well.”

_Sleep?_ If anything, Jungwoo feels more awake and sober than he’s ever felt in his entire life. He hiccups once, hands moving to cover his mouth quickly, trying to breathe normally again.

“Goodnight, Xuxi.”

*

Jaemin shakes himself free of his brother’s grip, laughing loudly as Jaehyun manages to get in a few final tickles. On the other side of the bed, Doyoung cracks an almost imperceptible smile, one that threatens to grow wider when Jaemin vengefully smacks a pillow across Jaehyun’s face.

“Hey!” Jaehyun yelps, ducking and rolling to cling to Doyoung’s arm in search of shelter.

Doyoung inches away, now beaming as Jaemin continues to rain blows down upon his elder brother.

“This is abuse!” Jaehyun whines. “I’ll report you to the King!”

“And he won’t see you for a month so don’t trouble yourself,” Jaemin giggles. He lands one final blow before handing the pillow to Doyoung, ensuring Jaehyun’s inability to get revenge while he escapes to his own room. “Goodnight, Doyoung. Don’t hesitate to make him sleep on the floor.”

“I-”

“He can’t,” Jaehyun interrupts smugly. He runs a hand through his hair before raising his arms, flexing his muscles in an over-the-top fashion. “I’m far stronger than Doy- OW! NOOO!”

Jaemin stares in fearful fascination as his brother can no longer move, now bound in place by a content Doyoung’s blood bending.

With just his index finger, Doyoung lightly pushes Jaehyun, and the younger man topples back over to his own side of the bed while Doyoung pulls the sheets up to his chin.

“Sometimes I humour him, sometimes not,” Doyoung smiles gummily. Beside him, Jaehyun appears to have his body back, now flipping onto his side to watch Jaemin mournfully. “Goodnight, Nana.”

“Night, Nana,” Jaehyun echoes, lashes already fluttering closed. Doyoung had shared a theory a few nights earlier that Jaehyun tires himself out by being wildly annoying, and Jaemin feels inclined to believe it.

“See you tomorrow,” Jaemin whispers, closing the door behind him.

He patters back to his shared room silently, mindful of the warning that the floorboards in the halls are fickle and one wrong step can result in a noise to wake the whole floor. He slips through the door, frowning at the complete silence within.

Under the minimal glow of moonlight filtering in the small slatted window, Jaemin can just make out a lump in the bed shared by Yangyang, Renjun and Xiaojun. His own bed to the left is shrouded in total darkness, so Jaemin walks with his arms out like a zombie until he stubs his toe on the bed base.

“Fuck,” he grimaces. He sinks into the mattress, leaning down to rub his sore toe once underneath the blankets and keeps his voice to a whisper. “Are you asleep Jen? I looked for you everywhere.” Jaemin taps the lump beside him, to no avail. “I didn’t mean to run… when you kissed me, I- well. I haven’t done that before. It just surprised me. But it was… it was nice. Is that a normal way to feel?”

There is no reply, only quiet labored breaths almost muffled by the monorail passing by outside.

Jaemin sighs, snuggling further into his pillow. “It’s okay. We can talk tomorrow,” he yawns, suddenly overcome with tiredness. “See you in the morning.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's just like a million different ships operating in this fic hahaha don't mind me 
> 
> i still enjoy writing jungwoo a lot but also the dojae was fun as always hehe anyways i hope u enjoyed mwah xxx


	13. underground fortress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prince kun manages to allow the avatar to see the king; a familiar face arrives in ba sing se with disturbing news

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter isn't that long, it is a third of what i intended for one whole chapter but i felt this is better on its own!

Cold. Bitter, chilling cold. The sensation envelops Yangyang’s senses the second he awakens. As he sits up, stretches overhead, Yangyang realises that the temperature isn’t all that low- not for a terribly heated tavern anyway.

Rather, the cold is a feeling; it’s in his bones. Even after twisting twice to crack his back, Yangyang can’t shake this strange sense. He shivers.

_Ah, the King,_ he remembers.

Today is the day the King has finally agreed to see them. A month of waiting was the cost, but Yangyang felt it necessary. _Allies in all places of all peoples are the key to winning this war,_ Yangyang had said to Kun the first time they dined together. Kun’s agreement to this meant everything to Yangyang- but nothing to Kun’s father, who has spent until now dodging Kun’s pleas for the King to speak with Yangyang.

_Optimism don’t fail me now,_ Yangyang smiles wryly, gazing up at the ceiling. Across the room, Xiaojun’s soft singing fills the air, steadily getting louder as he becomes lost in packing his nightwear back into his travel bag. Doyoung has been insistent on that point since Day 1: they are not to leave the tavern without having re-packed their belongings each day. As Doyoung had said, taking extra getaway time from yourself only helps the enemy.

Behind the door across the hall comes the muffled sound of Doyoung and Jaehyun’s bickering. Yangyang shakes his head, baffled by the fact that the manager hadn’t kicked them out yet. Perhaps he’d had worse customers.

He sits up then, and a squawk bursts out from beside him. Jaemin’s eyes are large and wide with surprise, his mouth opening and closing like a fish.

Yangyang can’t bring himself to smile. “Good morning.”

“Yangyang.” His eyes flit nervously around the room before returning to meet Yangyang’s. “I- I thought you-”

“Were Jeno?”

Xiaojun’s singing stills, and Yangyang suppresses the urge to roll his eyes at his friend’s nosiness.

Jaemin bites his lip. “What did you… last night. What did you hear?”

Yangyang shrugs. “All of it. I was trying to sleep, so...”

“So you just let me continue talking? Why would you do that?” Jaemin looks him over incredulously, the hint of annoyance n his face slowly turning to anger. “It was a private conversation, you should have stopped me.” He looks back to the other bed in confusion. “And why were you in this bed anyway? Where did-”

“Xiaojun was sprawled all over our bed and snoring when I got back from dinner with Kun. I didn’t see you, Jeno or Renjun around so I figured you were out together somewhere and you could fight over who had to shove Xiaojun out of the way. I was falling asleep and didn’t expect you to come make some big midnight confession, okay?”

“It’s not okay,” Jaemin begins, but his voice fades out as Yangyang notices Renjun leaning silently against the wall, brow furrowed.

“What is it, Junnie?”

Renjun sighs. He runs a hand through his brown hair, keeping his arms crossed against his chest as he speaks. “Jeno left.”

It’s as if Jaemin has turned to stone. He sits stock still, frozen in place as he waits for Renjun to elaborate. Yangyang glances at him, then back to Renjun.

“What do you mean?”

“Jeno knew Ten,” Renjun finally says, shoulders drooping. “I should have told you all earlier, but-”

Jaemin snaps out of his trance. “What do you mean? Told us what?”

“When we met Ten yesterday, I could tell he and Jeno knew each other. Jeno was… flighty, I suppose. And Ten eyed him like a predator watches prey. Then I saw them talking at sunset, but Jeno had an excuse, so I let it go.”

Yangyang’s eyebrows knit. “How do you know he’s with Ten?”

“I saw them go,” Renjun says, eyes downcast as Jaemin lets out a sharp cry. “They left on a small boat outside the walls at dawn.”

*

The Earth King’s Throne Room is the strangest place Yangyang has ever been in his life. Twenty levels below the earth’s surface, the elevator trip had lasted but two minutes. It is an odd, eerie place, somehow managing to smell fresh from the earth whilst musty at the same time.

Furnished with much gold and precious metals and jewels, the room bears only green curtains and banners over the dirt walls. It is a large room, made impossibly larger by the lack of any other furniture aside from the giant gold throne and tables bearing fruits and tea. Only sixteen people aside from the King, the Prince and the allotted guest are permitted inside the room at any given time, and these are the Captain of the Guard and his best men.

At Yangyang’s side is Jaemin, although they haven’t said a word to each other since leaving the tavern. Doyoung, stands on either side of Jaehyun and Xiaojun, with the intention of keeping those most likely to cause trouble from doing just that, and Renjun stands beside Xiaojun.

Yangyang smiles at the guards, hoping to temper the atmosphere somewhat, but is met with their perpetual blank stares. Internally, he rolls his eyes.

Kun does smile at them, a tinge of nervousness seeping through, but he blinks it away.

Yangyang bows to the King. “Your…” He breaks off, realising that he is uncertain of how to address this man. “Your Earthiness-”

Jaemin’s elbow slams into his ribs, and Yangyang doubles over as Jaehyun snorts loudly. Renjun stares at the ceiling while next to him, Doyoung claps a hand over Xiaojun’s mouth to prevent him from a giggling fit while glaring daggers at a meek Jaehyun.

“WHAT IS THIS _INSOLENCE_?” The King roars, almost leaping up from his chair. He shakes his sceptre wildly at them, and Yangyang fixates on the shining jade ball at the end of it while Kun steps in to do damage control.

“My King, the Avatar meant no disrespect,” Kun says hurriedly, bowing deeply. The Prince straightens to full height, expression grave. “The Avatar has been in the ice for one hundred years. He is still a child, and does not know the customs of the Earth Kingdom. Please do not dwell on this.”

Not a child, Yangyang itches to complain, but he remains silent. He shoots a look of gratitude to the Prince, and Kun’s mouth twitches for a second.

“Very well,” the King says, not appearing entirely relaxed. He juts his chin sharply. “Speak then, boy.”

Yangyang takes a deep breath, keenly aware of Jaemin’s presence beside him. Ordinarily, Jaemin would squeeze his hand or whisper something motivational to him, but since their spat this morning and the news of Jeno’s departure, the air between them has been very tense. Yangyang hates it.

“Earth King,” Yangyang tries again, pausing in case the King wishes to raise his sceptre once more. “My name is Liu Yangyang, and I am the Avatar, and the last airbender left from the Fire Nation’s genocide. I am here to speak with you, the leader of the only city still standing under its own rule, to request your help in overthrowing the Fire Nation’s rule.”

The King leans back in his seat. He flicks his wrist limply, which Yangyang assumes to be a direction to continue speaking.

“For years the Water Tribes and Earth Kingdom cities and towns have been at the mercy of the Fire Nation, and now almost none are left which are not under the Fire Lord’s rule. Ba Sing Se has many, many resources and an army of its own. If Ba Sing Se begins to free the smaller towns and reach out to the Water Tribes-”

“STOP!”

The boys freeze in place.

“I assume you have been listening to my son’s preposterous ideas,” the King snarls. He slings his right leg over his left, leans back in his seat as his knuckles whiten round the sceptre. To his left, Kun pales in dismay; he closes his eyes and his lips tremble almost imperceptibly, as if in prayer. “I will not destabilise this city and open _my_ doors to the Fire Nation. Those places are lost. Ba Sing Se is our only future.”

“So you would have the rest of the world fall while you hoard resources for yourself?” Yangyang snaps.

“DO NOT CRITICISE ME, BOY!” The King roars, leaping forward in his throne, sceptre extended threateningly. Behind him, one of the sixteen guards steps forward, hand resting on his sword. “My people will live here in Ba Sing Se in safety for the rest of their lives while the rest of the world fight amongst themselves. I will not put myself nor my people in danger; I will not risk Ba Sing Se for a young boy’s gamble on foreign peoples!”

“They _are _your people!” Yangyang can feel his face heating up with fury. Jaemin tugs at his sleeve, but the usual comfort Yangyang receives from the waterbender’s touch and words is absent. “Your title is the King of the Earth Kingdom! You owe it to every citizen to fight for their lives!”

“I am the KING! I do not owe ANYONE ANYTHING!”

“Then you’re a shit king.”

“_Jaehyun_,” Doyoung gapes at the blonde man. Everyone turns to Jaehyun, stunned at the unexpected declaration.

“A true king puts himself at the helm of battle for his people,” Jaehyun continues without remorse. Jaemin turns to watch his brother, realising it is Taeyong whom Jaehyun is talking about with such reverence in his eyes. “A good king seeks help when he needs it, suffers alongside his people, he doesn’t hide twenty floors underground-”

“SILENCE!”

The King’s breathes heavily, face twisted into pure rage. He looks to his son with disdain. “You have gone too far,” he spits, relishing the fear in Kun’s eyes as he gestures to the guards to step forward. “Take the Prince to his own quarters and shut off all visitors save meal delivery. The Prince can reflect on his defiance in solitude.” 

“_Father_,” Kun protests in shock, shaking his head wildly when two soldiers pin his arms behind his back, pressing on either side of him. He falls into silence for the rest of the walk to the elevator, and when Yangyang meets Kun’s eyes before the doors close, the shock has been replaced with pure anger.

Yangyang whirls back to the throne. “Your son is a better fit for a king than you will ever be!”

The Earth King stares at him, face unreadable. He lifts two fingers, signalling for the remaining soldiers to approach.

“Don’t bother locking them up,” he says calmly. “You’re not important enough to rot in my cells. I give you today to gather your things and leave. If you are still in Ba Singe Se by tomorrow morning I cannot be responsible for what punishment befalls you.”

At his words, the guards surge forward, roughly grabbing the Avatar and waterbenders and dragging them toward the elevator, throwing them in one by one. 

“When the Fire Lord comes for you, he will not hesitate to kill you!” Yangyang twists to shout over his shoulder, fierce gaze meeting the King’s smirk head on. “When you need help _NO ONE WILL HELP YOU_! THERE WILL BE NO ONE LEFT TO FIGHT FOR YOU BECAUSE YOU DID NOT HELP WHEN WE NEEDED IT!”

He finds himself flying through the air as the guards fling him into the elevator, and then the doors seal shut.

*

The sunlight is blinding when the boys resurface outside the palace- or rather, are tossed out on their asses. Yangyang bounces back up immediately, helping the others to their feet. Xiaojun is particularly ruffled by the mistreatment, and while he would normally glare or shout something offensive at the guards, the King’s words had got to him, so he remained silent.

“Jaehyun, get up,” Doyoung says, dusting off his backside. He squints at the blonde boy, still on the ground and staring into the crowd outside the gates, mouth dropped open. “Jaehyun, what are you-”

“Taeyong,” Jaehyun breathes. He takes off like a shot down the stairs and into the crowd, a blur of green at full speed until he slams into someone and stops, wrapping his arms around them and lifting them into the air.

Amidst the crowd of greens, greys and browns, Doyoung fixates on the figure in Jaehyun’s arms; even from a distance, Doyoung can see his beauty: hair of the palest silver-blue, almost white, pretty doll-like face screwed up in laughter and looking tiny in Jaehyun’s arms- and still bundled up in a large blue coat lined with white fur.

Doyoung swallows. “He’s from the Water Tribe?”

Jaemin laughs, watching the two men hug each other tightly. “He is the _Leader_ of the Southern Water Tribe. Or what’s left of it, anyway. Lee Taeyong.” 

“Taeyong,” Doyoung tries the name out. He frowns. “Wait, I thought Jaehyun was the leader?”

“No, he’s a minor chieftan. We have four, the top four warriors in the tribe who assist Taeyong with different duties. Jaehyun is the best warrior and our best hunter. Although, I’m definitely better at catching fish.”

“Best warrior, best hunter,” Doyoung mutters as Jaehyun’s loud, happy laughter fills the air. “Then why does he act the fool all the time?”

Jaemin snorts. “Because he is one,” he says matter-of-factly, then skips off down the stairs to hug their Leader himself.

“Don’t be so obvious.”

Doyoung turns at Renjun’s words, finding the younger waterbender smiling amusedly. He rolls his eyes. “What nonsense are you saying now?”

“Nothing.” Renjun shrugs. He nods to the scene below. “What’s the story between them, do you think?”

“I don’t know,” Doyoung says sourly. “Big strong chieftan warrior torn away from his tribe leader doll of a lover? Gods only know.”

“What romance tales have you been reading?”

“Fine. Angst, then. Jaehyun left and broke his heart and now they’re having their second chance.”

Renjun makes a face. “That doesn’t look like the face of heartbreak to me.”

After assessing the gigantic smile on Taeyong’s face, Doyoung feels inclined to agree.

“Well, I don’t know then. And I don’t care.” He shakes his fist at Renjun’s laughter. “I don’t! Shut up.”

He storms down the stairs with Renjun, Xiaojun and Yangyang hot on his heels, not stopping until he reaches Jaehyun. He taps the blonde on the back, and the pure joy in Jaehyun’s eyes is almost too much to bear.

“Uh… who’s this?”

Jaemin looks at Doyoung oddly, but says nothing.

“Oh, Doyoung!” Jaehyun says cheerfully. He sets Taeyong back on his feet, keeping a careful hand on the smaller man’s waist to steady him. “This is the leader of the Southern Water Tribe, Lee Taeyong.”

Up close, Taeyong’s eyes are huge and sparkling brown. Doyoung’s fists curl up.

“He’s…” Jaehyun pauses, eyes dancing as he overlooks Taeyong once more, “well, I don’t know why he’s here. Yongie?”

“I’m not here with good news, I’m afraid.” The light dies in Taeyong’s eyes at the question. He inhales heavily, and a deep furrow appears in his brow. “Four nights ago… Jonghyun overheard a group of Fire Nation soldiers discussing plans. They’ve stopped being so careful around us- I suppose they realised we are weak in number, and additionally they’ve kept us on rations.”

Jaemin’s face turns pink with fury; Jaehyun’s ears flush red.

“They were discussing news from the Fire Nation Capital, saying that the Prince will stage a coup to overthrow Ba Sing Se-”

“Prince Yuta doesn’t have the numbers-”

“Not Prince Yuta,” Taeyong shakes his head urgently. “The younger, Prince Jisung. He is relatively unknown outside the Fire Nation, but he is ambitious and the favourite son. The Fire Lord will back him with any support he requires.”

“Well-”

Before Xiaojun can finish his sentence, the first firebomb hits the city.

It strikes the palace gates, bouncing down to hit the concrete path where it explodes in a ball of flame, shattered shreds of glass and nails flying in all directions to bury themselves into the crowds.

“GET DOWN!” Jaehyun yells, shoving his brother down to the ground, tripping Xiaojun’s ankles to bring him down. Yangyang, Renjun and Doyoung drop in seconds, repressing the urge to cover their ears as the screaming starts.

“Now?” Yangyang knows the answer, glances with terror at his tell-tale orange and yellow airbender attire. “I- we-”

“He is here,” Taeyong gasps, coughing up dust and blinking the dirt from his eyes. Doyoung begins to rise, and Taeyong sinks his fingers into the green robes, slamming the bloodbender back down as another firebomb narrowly passes over them to blow up a fountain behind them. “We have to get your things and leave through the Lower Ring, it will be the biggest mess and the easiest to slip through. Quick, get up and move! _Now_!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha ... war ... yes 
> 
> so ive already done a lot of the next chapter thus no long wait for that. ive also decided that if i dont update at least every two weeks u all have permission to crucify me (in short, u can yell at me on twt- @jaesite_ if u wanna be moots)
> 
> my final assessments for this sem are all due next week then im free to write for 3 months skrrrr
> 
> anyways as u can probably guess the next chapter will be extremely action packed and i might up the rating on this soon when things get more intense, things around jungwoo's ch tend to border on some sense of discomfort so that's important for u all to be aware of. i just felt that this part needed to lead in separately fhdgkhgf but i hope ur all happy abt the return of bby taeyong! 
> 
> okay long note im done hhh ily all <3333


	14. the fall of ba sing se

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> two princes wreak havoc in ba sing se

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please mind the rating change! i dont think its a massive change to the previous one (mature to explicit now) but i do intend to at some points go in that direction. within this chapter is a scene that might be uncomfortable, it's very brief and it's basically just an elaboration of what was already alluded to in his introductory chapter
> 
> *this picks up roughly thirty minutes after the last chapter

Haechan opens his eyes to nothingness.

Grey, thick air all around him; it burns, he squeezes his eyes closes but cannot stop the leaking tears. On his knees, with his nails raked against the concrete ground, Haechan’s whole body shakes uncontrollably.

Haechan gets to his feet, stares blankly around, unmoving. His head thrums with pain, and he realises that he still has his hands over his ears to block out the noise. He tries to focus on the figure approaching him through the smoke, vision blurring over and over until the shape before him sharpens.

“_Taeil_.”

“Yes, it’s me, snap out of it,” Taeil orders, a far cry from his usual gentleness with the younger man. Seeming unsure as to whether Haechan is in the right frame of mind to follow, he smacks his cheek once.

Haechan blinks in shock.

“Do everything I say,” Taeil shouts over his shoulder, speeding up from a jog into a run. In a matter of seconds, Haechan loses him in the smoke, despite his best efforts to keep up. “Jump! Body ahead of you!”

“Wh-”

Haechan’s feet smack into the head of a Fire Nation soldier, shrieking in pain as his ankle catches the rim of the hard helmet.

“_Listen_ to me! Incoming from the right, pause by the stall!”

This time, Haechan stops instantly, clings to the wooden pole of a semi-destroyed furniture display. Two seconds later, a firebomb zings past his face, singeing the tips of Haechan’s orange-brown curls.

“_Let’s_ _go!”_

He takes off again, listening keenly for Taeil’s next words.

“Left! _Duck_!”

Haechan does so without question, running blindly and tripping over fallen stall displays and bodies, still unable to process the situation unfolding around him. His brain is set to a recurring loop of _run, run, run, run;_ no stopping, no slowing, until ahead of him a large wall looms above the rising smoke- the palace, Haechan can tell by the gold rails atop the wall that they are near the Prince’s quarters.

Suddenly Taeil is beside him again, face grey with gun powder and smoke lingering in his formerly neat brown hair. Haechan supposes he must look the same, save for the grim set of Taeil’s jaw and his trained gaze betraying none of the fear currently consuming Haechan’s entire being.

Taeil coughs violently as thickening smoke fills his lungs. He grasps Haechan’s sleeves to pull him along, neatly dodging the oncoming onslaught of soldiers and earthbenders. “The gate on the right,” Taeil says hoarsely, shoving them in said direction, “we can find Kun, I know he has-”

“JOHNNY! LUCAS, _HELP_!”

The cry pierces through the battle noise, and Haechan digs his heels in to stop, tears himself away from Taeil as the urgency in Mark’s voice fills the air. He runs blindly through the crowd, yelps in pain as the end of a spear slams into his hip bone, knocking him off kilter for a moment.

“Haechan, _stop_!” Taeil calls behind him. “It’s not s-”

He crashes into Haechan as the younger boy draws to a halt.

“Surrender to the Fire Nation!”

The words are spoken with a gleefulness that Taeil processes with fury, not caring to hold back the rage plainly etched into his normally calm features as he takes in the man before him: Prince Yuta, as handsome and imposing as if he had leapt from one of the posters taped up on signboards throughout the city.

Behind the Prince is a second man, taller, with his arms folded over his chest. He stands straight and silently, with black curls whipping across his beautiful face. Taeil studies the man, unsure of who he is, and is met only with a blank stare save for a hint of coldness in his eyes. Despite the Prince holding a longsword, the second man bears no weapons.

And at their feet, alongside five others, Mark kneels. His hands are flat on the ground, but unlike the other citizens Mark’s face is upturned and filled with terror as he takes note of Haechan and Taeil in front of him.

“What do you think, Sicheng? Is he here?”

Taeil waits with perfect stillness as the tall man- Sicheng- analyses their faces without moving from his place. Yuta waves his hand to hurry Sicheng up, impatiently stepping backward to nudge the man’s side.

Sicheng’s face betrays no reaction to this. He shakes his head.

Yuta looks down at the citizens, then nods at the waiting soldiers. “Not the avatar. Take them to the cells.”

“Wait.”

Yuta arches a brow, turning back to Sicheng. “What?”

On his knees, Haechan raises his eyes to find the Sicheng’s on him, studying him keenly. _Is it my hair? Is it my fucking hair?_ He closes his eyes, body trembling all the more with every passing second, wishing he’d left the house in a cloak, anything to hide his bright orange-toned hair. _But there’s no way he could possibly know, there’s no way-_

When he opens them again, the tall man simply shrugs. “It’s nothing,” Sicheng says softly. “Carry on.”

Yuta watches Sicheng for a moment, brows knit in confusion. Then he turns away, barking out further orders to the soldiers.

Taeil grunts as a soldier roughly pulls his arms behind his back, binding them with cold cuffs. He perks up at the feeling, only for a coldness to settle over him as Yuta smirks from over the heads of the other citizens and soldiers.

“The cuffs are a new creation engineered in the Fire Nation,” the Prince says proudly. “Even metal-benders cannot unbend them, so save yourself the trouble.”

Teeth gritted, Taeil wiggles his fingers around anyway. His last fragment of hope shatters as the cuffs do not budge, and a soldier shoves his back to move him along.

“My brother, Prince Jisung, has arranged for Ba Sing Se’s prison bars to be replaced with the same metal, so do not bother to fight it.” Taeil doesn’t miss the glimpse of a grimace betrayed on Yuta’s features as he mentions his brother. “In the prisons you will all be sorted via a new system. If deemed non-threatening, it is likely that you will return to your current occupations. For those of you who are soldiers or who have been documented as possessing extreme skill, you will remain in the cells until we have time to process and rehabilitate. There is no chance for an uprising. Remain calm and everything will progress smoothly.”

As the Prince finishes speaking, the soldiers continue ushering the citizens toward the left of the palace, toward the underground dungeons. Ahead of him, Taeil sees Mark twisting around to look at Haechan, more fear than anger visible. _Of course, Mark’s skill is documented a thousand times over._ While Mark dropped out of training to pursue manual labour recently, his bending remains; thus, Mark would be seen as an obvious threat to the Fire Nation. Johnny and Lucas, too.

By contrast, Taeil’s low profile job as a cabbage seller posed no threat to anybody. _It is likely that I will be among the first released_, Taeil realises. Never having been one for tournaments, Taeil’s skills were all but forgotten to those outside of his closest friends and family. He had never taught anyone besides Mark and Lucas, and while they had excelled further in their metalbending under Taeil’s guidance neither had ever been able to cultivate anything close to Taeil’s unmatched seismic senses. Not only is Taeil’s seismic sense strong enough that he possesses the ability to see through smoke and even walls in some cases, but his true strength lies in the uses of truth-seeing and lie detection, both of which had always felt so minimal in the grand scheme of things… until now.

The soldier shoves him again as they enter the elevator leading to the dungeons, and Taeil breathes in deeply, focused on Mark and Haechan’s heads on the other side of the elevator. Never in his life had Taeil expected- nor wanted- to find himself as the unforeseen advantage in a war. The very thought fills him with revulsion. But even if his family and Ba Sing Se and almost everybody save the people closest to him had let him down, for his friends at least, Taeil would fight with every fibre of his being against the Fire Nation.

The doors reopen to reveal the fire-lit cells of the underground dungeons, and Taeil loses sight of the younger men as he’s jostled around and forced behind bars.

He exhales, for the first time breathing in awful, stale air.

_Whatever it takes. _

*

“There’s no way Yangyang has time to fly everyone over the wall without soldiers spotting us,” Jaemin points out as the group hides behind a fallen stall near the Middle Ring’s outer wall, looking round at the hundreds of red-and-black clothed figures arresting the Ba Sing Se citizens left and right.

“It doesn’t matter,” Taeyong starts to say, then perks up, angling his upper body over the remains of a battered shelf he’s crouched behind. “Doyoung! Renjun!” He whisper-shouts, clicking his fingers until Renjun spies him, quickly altering Doyoung to their direction and scurrying over with bags over their shoulders and arms.

Doyoung’s face is pale, betraying the aloofness he had clearly hoped to portray through his flat expression. “We almost got caught,” Doyoung swallows nervously. “They burst into the tavern when we were packing up the last of mine and Jaehyun’s things. Renjun smashed out the window and we had to jump from the second floor.”

“We landed in a fruit cart,” Renjun gestures to their clothes, an explanation for the sticky juice running down their clothes.

“I got in through the sewers,” Taeyong says, ignoring the horror on Doyoung’s face. He checks around for soldiers before dashing down to the circular metal gate to the underground pipes, pulling with all his might. He yelps, shaking his hand while his cheeks flush with exertion. “I- it- it won’t budge- oh gods, we need an earthbender-”

Jaehyun rushes to his side, and after one forceful tug the gate swings open.

“Oh.”

“It’s nothing, Yong,” Jaehyun assures him, beckoning to Jaemin, Renjun and Yangyang to come over too. Doyoung moves first, shifting the two bags into his arms onto his left shoulder before gripping the side of the hold and dropping into the tunnel neatly. There is only a small splash, yet Doyoung’s squawk of disgust is more than indicative of his opinion on a sewer-escape.

Renjun passes his bags to the elder bloodbender before slipping down himself, followed by Jaemin, Jaehyun and then most gracefully Yangyang, who hovers in the hole on his flying stick when Taeyong latches onto his arm.

“You must master _all four elements_ if you are to save the world,” Taeyong looks fiercely into Yangyang’s unsure brown eyes, determination and pain flooding in the depths of his own deep blue ones. “Your waterbender friends can help you, but somehow you must find earthbenders again.”

Yangyang shakes his head. “But what of fire? Who in the Fire Nation would possibly help me when they all want me dead?”

“The one to help will be whom you least suspect,” Taeyong replies mysteriously, gaze far away. “Master water first. The rest will come to you, I have seen it. Now, go!”

With a singular nod, Yangyang dips underground and speeds down the tunnel, hoping to fetch Hutong swiftly and be ready to fly by the time the others make it out into the forest by foot.

“I’ll help you down, Yongie,” Jaehyun’s voice echoes from inside the tunnel.

Taeyong peers into the darkness, Jaehyun’s bright hair easily visible. On tip-toe, he’s almost tall enough to be level with the opening. He wears his blue furs once again, having put them on while waiting for Yangyang, and his face is so open and trusting, as it always is.

Taeyong leans down just enough to keep his balance, pressing a kiss into Jaehyun’s soft hair. “Breaking your heart a second time is enough to break mine,” he murmurs faintly, feeling Jaehyun’s head snap away in shock. “I have to stay here. This is where I have to be right now.”

“No,” Jaehyun shakes his head, eyes sparkling with tears, “not again. Not again.”

He feels Doyoung’s arm wrap gently round his waist, feels Jaemin’s hand on his arm, but he watches his Tribe Leader imploringly, silently begging him to join them.

“Be safe, Warrior Prince,” Taeyong smiles through tears of his own. “I think of you night and day.”

With those parting words he pulls away, the rattle of metal sounds from above ground, and the tunnel returns to darkness amidst Taeyong’s disappearing footsteps.

Jaemin and Renjun take off down the tunnel, while Jaehyun stares up at the roof, unmoving.

Unsure of how to deal with Jaehyun’s sadness, Doyoung too, stands still for a moment. Not one to flourish in social situations and relationships, he had always done his best to avoid feelings in any capacity. Tears and sadness he treated with contempt, unable to understand their purpose, and in time, the distance Doyoung had placed between himself and others had created a rift as obvious internally as it was externally.

But Jaehyun… Jaehyun is different.

Doyoung can feel his own chest ache at the sight of him; his heart drops lower and lower the further the warrior’s shoulder’s droop, his eyes sting with second-hand pain.

So this time, under the cover of darkness with a battle raging above them, Doyoung closes the gap between them to encircle Jaehyun in a firm back hug, burying his face between the fur collar and the crook of Jaehyun’s neck. And while Jaehyun stiffens at first- perhaps as shocked at the action as Doyoung himself- his slowing breath tells Doyoung that this small attempt at comfort means something.

Doyoung decides to process this at a later date.

“I’ll bring you back to him,” Doyoung promises, as much to himself as to Jaehyun, feeling the younger man’s head rest fully atop his own now. “Stay with me- with us- until we win this war. When it’s all over, we can come right back. Everything will turn out just as it’s meant to be.”

*

When Jungwoo meets Haechan’s eyes through the prison bars, the first real bolt of terror strikes his very being.

He has no idea how long his brother has been down here. Jungwoo suspects that at least thirty minutes have passed since he and Lucas had been thrown into their own overcrowded cell, though it felt somehow like they’ve been locked away for a hours.

He never saw the Prince coming- no, not Prince Yuta, the one he would have recognised from the countless posters plastered either by Fire Nation soldiers with reverence in the outer earth villages or by fearful earth citizens throughout Ba Sing Se.

It was different for Johnny and Lucas, whose faces explicitly declared that a second prince had never been known to them. When the tall, lanky young prince cornered them with ease in the training centre’s lobby, hands aflame to the likes of which none of them had ever seen, every single whispered mention of a second prince- a younger, more powerful prince revered within the Capital but unknown outside of it- came back to Jungwoo tenfold, and it dawned upon him that this had to be him.

And for a moment, the second prince- Prince Jisung, as he was soon addressed- focused on Jungwoo, with such clarity in his eyes, so different to the known rage blinding his elder brother’s own gaze, that Jungwoo felt it was all over.

Then he found himself in prison, and he could not see Johnny at all, though Lucas was but two metres away from him in the stuffed cell.

Jungwoo nods at Haechan, then reaches through the bar to tap the shoulder of the guard before him.

“What?” The guard barks, spinning round with his spear in hand. He stills at the sight of Jungwoo, just barely relaxing. He is at least seven years older than Jungwoo, maybe ten. But Jungwoo’s done worse.

With a crook of his finger and softly whispered words, Jungwoo knows he’s sealed the deal. The soldier’s keys jingle in his hand, eyes glinting as he swings the cell door open just enough for Jungwoo’s lithe body to slip through.

The gate slams back in place, and Jungwoo follows after the soldier, eyes downcast and heart beating fast.

“JUNGWOO!”

Lucas shoves past his fellow prisoners to the door, seeing Jungwoo’s green robes disappear round the corner. He meets Haechan’s stare through the bars. “What is he doing? What’s going on?”

Lucas would never expect Haechan to keep up his blunt, lively personality under the circumstances- but this is different. There’s a coldness, a sense of resignation in his eyes that tells Lucas everything he needs to know in seconds.

“No.”

Haechan swallows.

“Why?”

The brother’s lower lip trembles for a moment, and then he steps out of Lucas’ sight to dissolve into the crowd of prisoners.

“Haechan! HAE-”

Under Lucas’ firm grip, the door gives way. Looking down, he realises that the guard, in all his hastiness to leave with Jungwoo, had neglected to properly lock the cell door. The latch snaps, and Lucas is almost thrown to the floor as the earth citizens run to freedom, using the remaining three guards’ spears against them before dashing to the end of the hall and working together to blast tunnels in the dirt walls. The citizens swipe the keys from the dead guards’ bodies and set about freeing the rest.

“Fuck,” says Lucas, and then he races down the corridor he saw Jungwoo turn down. A series of doors greet him; it’s dark down here, and windowless, and it isn’t until Lucas stills and blocks out the noise of the citizens in the cells that he pinpoints faint sounds a few doors down.

He kicks the door in, so forcefully that it flies right off its hinges and slams in the wall behind. To the left, behind a desk, the soldier stares at him in unconcealed shock, one hand raised in the air, flailing uselessly, the other twisted in the orange hair belonging to the figure on his knees turned away from Lucas.

In two leaps Lucas clears the room, wrenches the guard’s spear from the desk and buries it straight through his eye.

Jungwoo screams.

He jumps back, head almost smacking into the desk, and it isn’t until Lucas crouches down beside him with his palms empty and open that he stops moving, tearing his eyes away from the guard’s bloody corpse to Lucas.

“Wh- y- how-”

“The door,” Lucas answers, “he never shut the door properly before he left.”

He waits expectantly, sure that Jungwoo will burst into tears at any moment.

Instead, Jungwoo throws his head back and roars with laughter.

He laughs for maybe twenty seconds. The hairs on Lucas’ neck stand tall; Jungwoo’s laughter is frightening, haunting. When Jungwoo stops laughing, he begins coughing, and then he falls onto his hands and spits, over and over, until Lucas can’t take it anymore.

“_Jungwoo_, stop, _stop_,” he tears his shirt over his head, tossing it to Jungwoo, not wanting to get too close and scare him. “Wipe it off. Wipe _him_ _off_.”

In a daze, the orange-haired man takes the shirt gingerly. He lifts it to his lips, rubbing so fiercely that Lucas almost stops him.

Then he drops the shirt to the floor.

“All part of the charm.”

Lucas can’t bring himself to smile given Jungwoo’s traumatised, dishevelled state. “We have to get out of here.” He ducks under the spear, extending a hand to Jungwoo, who accepts it. He turns and makes for the door when a disgusting squelch fills the room.

Jungwoo holds the spear now, with blood and bits of eyeball attached to the end. He bends to clean it with the guard’s robes.

“I want a weapon now,” he explains, following Lucas out the door.

Lucas can’t blame him.

When they enter the cells, a fight has erupted in their absence. An influx of soldiers has arrived, and the bodies on the floor indicate that they are now going straight for kill shots. Lucas grabs Jungwoo’s hand and they make a break for it, sprinting toward the tunnels at full speed.

“I don’t see Taeil,” Lucas twists around in search of them, “or Johnny, or Haechan-”

They enter the pitch black tunnels and keep on non-stop, clinging to each other as they pass by other citizens escaping.

“We can’t stop,” Jungwoo gasps, “we’ll find them outside the walls!”

*

“There!” Haechan crashes to a halt. He leans against the dirt wall of the newly formed tunnel, panting heavily as he strains to listen further. He turns to Mark, eyes flashing wildly. “I heard their voices- Lucas, Jungwoo- _JUNGWOO_!”

There’s a fork ahead of them, where the escapees had chosen to burrow off in two directions to make it harder for the Fire Nation to chase them.

“Did you see?” Haechan demands, voice rising shrilly. “Did you see which tunnel Woo and Lucas went down?”

Mark shakes his head, coughing violently. He rubs his eyes again. “I can’t- I can’t see-”

Haechan sets his jaw grimly. “We have no choice but to run,” he says, gripping Mark’s arm tightly. “I can try to guess where Jungwoo might head-”

_BOOM. _

A cannon flies overhead and collapses the tunnel to their right. The entire wall begins to disintegrate, and Mark, tripping over the rubble, shouts in terror as a massive rock falls toward them, speeding through the air-

Only to freeze.

He gasps, eyes wide with shock as he takes in Haechan, the curly-headed boy standing still and with complete focus on the rock, his hand outstretched and seemingly bearing the weight of it, until Mark realises there is at least ten centimetres between Haechan’s hand and the stone.

“Haechan, you-”

“Duck!”

Haechan flings the rock past Mark, where it sails over the heads of earthbenders to knock out three soldiers in a single blow.

“Come on,” Haechan grunts, hurling Mark to his feet. Adrenaline pumping, they sprint toward the only tunnel left and burst out into the forest outside the walls of Ba Sing Se.

*

“That was not the fucking avatar.”

Yuta’s chest heaves with exertion as he watches the last of the earthbenders either escaping or being captured in the remaining tunnel. He sheathes his sword, for the first time feeling more shock than rage at the end of a battle.

“No,” Sicheng says thoughtfully. He tilts his head, tongue in cheek as he ponders the split-second scene that only he and Yuta appeared to have seen. “He’s the same man from this morning. The orange-haired one, do you recall?”

Yuta wrinkles his nose. “Why would I remember- oh. Yes. You paused.”

“I did.”

“Then why _the hell_ didn’t you stop him?”

Sicheng blinks innocently up at the prince, shifting his features into an expression of hurt. “Stop him how? We sent him to jail.”

Yuta curls his lip sulkily.

“If you ask me, I think we should leave now,” Sicheng murmurs, lips to the prince’s ear. “Your brother won’t let you take charge here. The avatar has not been spotted once. And as you can see, there’s more going on than anyone else suspects. Let’s leave, just you and me again.”

“Without telling my dear brother?” A sly smile makes its way onto Yuta’s face. He turns his face to Sicheng’s, chuckling softly at his friend’s bright eyes as Sicheng now rests his chin on Yuta’s shoulder. “Alright. But first, let’s take a shower in the palace bathrooms. I refuse to go from our tiny apartments to on the run all without a decent royal bath.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HHHHHH so we are finally moving the storyline outside of ba sing se (though a few remain, as you have yet to see, idk who you think is left). 
> 
> i might do the next chapter from kun's perspective and someone else's... not sure bc i never plan ahead jhjhghghs
> 
> if u have a specific pov u want i can see what i come up with hehe <333


	15. secrets after sunset

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> taeyong stumbles through the secrets of ba sing se in the aftermath of the coup.
> 
> ten inducts jeno into high society and brings someone unexpected along 
> 
> ember island welcomes an unannounced visitor

**Ba Sing Se**

_One week after the Coup _

To Taeyong, the fact that he had managed to leave his friends behind in the sewers and evade capture through the chaos all the way back to the Upper Ring- and into the palace, no less- proved beyond anything that the gods perpetually smiled down on him. He’d snagged a pine green sheet from a stall to throw over his blue fur coat and run the entire way there, running between stalls and crouching beside fallen bodies in time with the exploding fire bombs. The smoke shielded him all the way to the palace, and his sixth senses sent him sprinting down a side gate through a small wooden door that didn’t look to have been opened in years.

Inside was pitch-black. Taeyong had been worried, fearing that he’d locked himself into a room with no way out, although he couldn’t go back out, not with the war waging on outside. From underneath the door, a ray of light informed Taeyong that he was in a thin hall- how long it was, he could not tell, but he’d taken the plunge and followed it to the end.

As it turned out, when Taeyong’s hands finally hit a flat surface and searched for a handle, he stepped into another hall, and upon exploring it, discovered himself to be in the quarters of the Prince of the Earth Kingdom.

There was almost nothing in any of the rooms he found. Bedrooms, a kitchen, a library… much of it seems completely untouched, save for one banquet hall he entered which had a table of fresh food including an odd amount of cabbages. He ate, ravenous after his journey, and then the sound of shouting soldiers sent Taeyong hurtling back to the locked off passage from whence he came.

From within, an ear pressed against the filthy wood of the old door, Taeyong learnt that the King was captured… but no soldier of the Fire Nation had been able to locate the Prince at all. He had vanished, and so had the avatar, and so had Prince Yuta, and Prince Jisung was at his wits end.

On his third night spent in the secret passage, Taeyong had ventured back into the banquet hall to sneak more food back. Startled by the sudden arrival of soldiers, the waterbender had dashed into a walk-in pantry- one that, upon Taeyong falling against the left wall, gave way to yet another door. He followed the passage all the way, at least ten minutes of walking he believed, and no wonder, for the hall came to a balcony directly overlooking the King’s dining hall.

Prince Jisung was there. Like most, Taeyong had never known of a second prince’s existence in the Fire Nation. More shockingly, this younger prince possessed immense, controlled power: blue flame, lightning even, and though Taeyong had loved the colour blue his whole life, this blue terrified him. Eerie, cold, burning. It reflected in the coldness of the Prince’s eyes as he ate silently, bored out of his mind.

“I will leave the Fire Lord’s trusted chiefs to rearrange Ba Sing Se in the image of the Fire Nation,” Prince Jisung had said, picking up a piece of cabbage gingerly between thumb and forefinger. “I have no patience to deal with this city’s existing imperfections. Until then, I shall wait on Ember Island.”

Taeyong, having never heard of such a place, had scuttled back into the passage, not wanting to risk a soldier spotting him.

Since the fourth day, Taeyong has been left to roam the Prince’s quarters in an unearthly silence. The guards ransacked the quarters the day of the coup and returned the day after, but since then have only returned twice.

Today, Taeyong ascends to the top floor by way of the elevator instead of the stairs, confident that he won’t have to flee at any moment. He thinks of the conversation he overheard in the dining hall last night, only the second he’d eavesdropped, still scared to be caught. The Prince is gone now, but the guards remain, and the only mention of the King was that only a select five people knew of his whereabouts.

Taeyong steps out of the elevator tentatively. This is the only level he has not yet explored, and when he enters a massive suite with a single, king sized bed within, Taeyong knows it is the Prince’s bedroom he is inside of.

“Huh.”

Despite the ransacking, the room remains perfectly tidy. As with the rest of Ba Sing Se, it is themed with greens, greys and browns- beige mostly, and pine green. The bed is made up neatly, and there is a small nightstand beside it with a used candle on top. Overall, the room is devoid of all personality; there are no paintings or unnecessary objects of any kind, not a single hint as to who the Prince is.

This annoys Taeyong. He’s always been an exceptionally curious person, stemming from a compulsive need to understand his visions that keeps him on alert for anything that could help him to do so. Without personal items, the Prince’s age, name, _anything_ belonging to him… even inside someone’s generally most intimate place, Taeyong has still learned nothing. Due to the disconnection between the elemental states since the beginning of the Hundred Year War, it isn’t common for citizens to know the members of the royal families or leaders’ families. With the exception of Prince Yuta’s infamy, the sons and daughters of most rulers are never known unless they ascend to the throne.

Taeyong walks around the bed to open the large, paneled wooden doors. A gust of wind blows against his face, and he finds himself stepping onto a balcony.

It’s the beginning of sunset. He turns his face to the sky, relishing the warmth on his skin, realising that this is the first time he has been outside since running into the secret passage on the day of the coup.

He walks to the right. At the very end of the balcony, leaning over the rail, Taeyong can see out across the Upper Ring, the Lower Ring lost in a grey cloud. Taeyong heard Jisung speak of removing the Lower Ring- or what is left of it. Right now, it is the Middle Ring that seems most back to normal. Taeyong heard the lists, knew that the benders were being heavily monitored. He knew that some hadn’t been released at all, and that others were “bound for new cities”, whatever that meant.

He turns around and walks to the other side, hand sliding along the rail. It’s smooth and pine green, and… wet.

The paint is fresh.

He lifts his hand back up, to find the pads of his fingers the same pine green. Taeyong frowns, gaze dropping to the floor, where he spots a single drop of paint at the end of the balcony.

Taeyong crouches down, pressing his hands along the floorboards. A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth when one of the boards shudders, and then, with a little more push, gives way to the side.

“Woah,” Taeyong breathes in awe. A metal trapdoor lies beneath, its small lock open.

He slides his fingers into the gap to prise open the door.

“Ouch!”

Taeyong hisses and shoves his finger inside his mouth, sucking on it hard to lessen the sore feeling. When he assesses the redness of his index finger, he realises a splinter is the offense behind his pain.

Back home, Jaehyun was always the one to help out- to do anything that involved manual labour of any kind, really. They’d grown up together for the most part. Taeyong’s extra years on Jaehyun meant nothing when they were from the leading families in the tribe. They’d lost their parents at the same time… although Taeyong had never known his mother. While Jaemin and Taeyong had always been somewhat outsiders in their own tribe and Jaehyun had always been in the thick of things, the blonde boy had done his best to keep them close.

Because Jaehyun was- is, even now it seems- in love with Taeyong.

He isn’t the only one. Taeyong can’t count the amount of boys and girls in the tribe who’ve confessed to him over the years. It became something that Jaemin frequently teased Taeyong about whenever they practiced what little bending they knew together. They bonded over their perceived ‘strangeness’ to the rest of the tribe: beautiful and odd, quiet and indifferent to the fact that anyone would do anything they asked.

Taeyong never took advantage of this willingness to please him… with the exception of Jaehyun.

He tried to convince himself that Jaehyun’s love for him was a familial love, part of their close bond from childhood. But when Jaehyun came close to confessing his feelings for Taeyong on his eighteenth birthday, Taeyong had spent a week alone wallowing in the shame of being _grateful_ for the passing Fire Nation ship scare that had interrupted Jaehyun. They had never outright addressed it since, and Taeyong knows it is because Jaehyun could tell that Taeyong had understood what he was going to say.

There is so much Taeyong loves about Jaehyun. Namely that: that even the strength of his own love is not enough to make Taeyong uncomfortable to satisfy himself. Jaehyun would stay by his side helping Taeyong for the rest of his life, never asking for anything more is that is what Taeyong wants.

Taeyong doesn’t know what he wants.

To save his people? Himself?

Deep down, Taeyong’s greatest wish is to be… selfish.

The role of leader of the Southern Water Tribe was thrust upon him at age sixteen. With the tribe in shambles, the elders declared Taeyong’s psychic skills and great patience to be the saving grace of the community. He’d spent his entire childhood preparing for the role, and lost the rest of it fulfilling it.

To say that Taeyong had jumped at the chance to leave the Water Tribe to travel to Ba Sing Se felt like the biggest betrayal, yet stowing onboard the Fire Nation’s ship had made Taeyong feel more alive than he had ever felt in his life. He’d formed the plan with just one of the elders whom he trusted implicitly, and as the last of the Fire Nation ships were called away to deal with uprisings in the Earth Kingdom, Taeyong found his opportunity to run.

Somehow, a week trapped inside a foreign castle is still incomparable to the invisible bindings of his own tribe.

“Oh my gods,” Taeyong gasps as a forceful tug finally flings the trapdoor open. He glances around the balcony, keenly listening for any footsteps down the hall. As expected, there are none.

He leverages his body over the opening, hands braced carefully on the metal to avoid another splinter from the floorboards. The hole isn’t terribly deep; his feet tap along the ground, and Taeyong drops to his feet. He leans up on tip-toe to flick the door closed again, snatching his hand away to avoid the metal slamming down on his fingers.

In the dim light of this small space, Taeyong can see an elevator in front of him. He enters and hits the lever to go down. Taeyong doesn’t think he’ll ever get over the complexity of the Earth Palace with all its hidden levels and layers. The impossibility of such architecture is impossible back home. Here, Taeyong is free to roam the secrets and intricacies of the palace by foot, traipsing down concealed passages and unlocking hidden trapdoors; it’s how he wishes his own mind could unfold, into a physical, trackable maze that he can make sense of. There’s only so much one can do with ice- thus, Taeyong’s secrets remained trapped in his mind alone.

The elevator stops with such ease that Taeyong doesn’t realise he’s reached the level until the doors slide open. He’d only had time to use the elevators a handful of times since arriving in Ba Sing Se, and they typically shuddered when coming to a halt.

He exits the elevator, eyes already widening as he takes in the small pier before him, over water. Whatever he’d expected to find down here, it wasn’t this. The possibility of arriving outdoors hadn’t even crossed his mind, but a surprised smile breaks over his features as he turns to his right.

There’s a circular door over the still water, one covered with hanging flowers and vines, and slightly ajar.

Taeyong cannot see a boat or raft of any kind, but his curiosity is piqued beyond measure, and so, without hesitation, he sits down on the edge of the pier and slides into the water.

“Not too deep,” he says delightedly, noting that he can see the rounded pebbles on the pond floor. He sets off at a paddle toward the gate, giggling with sheer joy at the feeling of his body in the water. Taeyong had learnt to swim out of sheer necessity; it wouldn’t do to drown, should he fall off the ice at any time, but he’d never _enjoyed_ the freezing ocean.

This, though. This is heaven.

When he reaches the gate, Taeyong’s arms tremble as he hauls his body out of the water, and he laughs quietly at the reminder of how unfit he currently is. He slips his legs over the side and balances himself inside the circular gate, pausing to get his breath back.

Then he loses it again.

Under the orange and purple glow of the setting sun, a wall of stone houses a beautiful garden to the likes of which Taeyong has never even imagined. A pavilion with a small canoe beside it catch his eye first, and then his eyes rove over the scene with unreserved wonder: the shrines, the waterfall, the lotus trees with their pink and white petals strewn over the water, and below the surface are fish Taeyong has never seen before, pretty and orange and white, and he realises his eyes have teared up at the sight of it all.

And then, with a jolt that almost causes him to fall off the gate, Taeyong sees the man in the water staring at him in shock. 

He’s closer to Taeyong than anything else, but partially behind a large rock. Below his waist is submerged, and the water is clear enough to see his brown pants. Taeyong’s cheek’s flare red as he acknowledges that the man is shirtless and very well-built, with one hand running through the damp, dark hair curling over his forehead as his surprise shifts into a look of intrigue.

_So this is the Prince of the Earth Kingdom_, Taeyong swallows. _He’s… incredibly handsome_. He doesn’t look like anybody Taeyong has ever seen before. But judging by the way the prince is looking at Taeyong, he supposes the prince thinks the same way.

At any rate, the prince has a right to be curious at the sudden appearance of a strange, slim figure in a soaking undershirt with silvery hair. Taeyong pauses to thank the gods for his abnormal appearance. Because if the prince had chosen to view him as a threat, one look at the prince’s muscles tells Taeyong he would not be the victor in that battle.

He waits, unsure of how to break the ice.

Then, he doesn’t have to. The prince eyes him with a direct, piercing gaze, and a rush of hot fear buzzes through Taeyong’s body. 

“Who are you?” 

*

**Fire Nation **

_The Palace _

“Jeno. _Jeno_.”

Ten snaps his fingers in front of Jeno’s eyes, flicks his forehead. _Hard_.

“Ouch!”

“I’m talking to you.” Ten leans back against the comfort of the red-cushioned lounge they share, the tip of his finger pushing a plate of spicy komodo rhino toward the younger man. “You zone out too much.”

“I’m just thinking.”

“Well, think less,” Ten says flippantly. “Eat up.”

Jeno bites into a piece of rhino sausage, closing his eyes to savour the way the chili kicks in after a few seconds, creating the sensation of his mouth being practically on fire. He passes over the boiled clams in favour of fruit: ash banana, pink berries, lychee nuts- no moon peaches, he notes with some disappointment.

Ten must notice Jeno’s pout, a wry smile making its way onto his face. “You ate the only moon peaches we had. They’re not in particularly high demand here, you know. If you play smartly, I’ll put in a request when we next bring in trading goods from the Earth Kingdom.”

Jeno remains silent, lifting his gaze to take in his surroundings. They are in the west wing of the palace, a dining hall, but not one the Fire Lord enters. The room is massive and rectangular, and so very, very red: red carpet, giant red pillars, glowing red lanterns hanging from the ceiling, with gold accents and carved dragon statues. Today, the two of them are sitting on a balcony overlooking the long main table on the ground floor, where a young group of nobles are celebrating someone’s birthday. As usual, Ten is bugging him for more secrets about the avatar and his friends.

Ten looks amused in that way he always does. Jeno doesn’t know whether he actually likes Ten or whether he’s scared of him. Sometimes Ten is funny, other times Jeno is unsure of whether Ten is laughing at him or not. The Fire Lord’s Captain of the Guard is seemingly ruthless, and it’s impossible for Jeno to tell yet whether there is real feeling behind the cruel, joking mask. He doesn’t know much about Ten, beyond Ten’s hint that his rise to Captain was unorthodox, and then of course, his constant reminiscing of the memories spent with the Crown Prince and his Adviser.

It is strange to hear Yuta’s name without his title spoken before it. Stranger too, to listen to tales that make the prince sound so normal. Jeno had never thought about the prince as a real person before. He was the banished, burned son of the Fire Lord, and that was all. Hearing wild stories about school-age boys sneaking around and getting up to mischief was another thing entirely. And when Ten began to joke far too intimately about being the third-wheel between the prince and the silent man Jeno knew to be Yuta’s advisor, Jeno had to clamp his hands over his ears and plead with a giggling Ten to _please, please be quiet._

“Come on, Jen. You give up the avatar and his little friends, and this,” Ten gestures around at the luxurious room, “all becomes permanent for you. No more bottom rung lifestyle. You’ll rise in the ranks with ease, I can see your potential.”

Jeno shrugs.

“And your mother would be cared for by the same physicians as the Fire Lord. No more scrimping for medical fees just to keep her going. She would live well, in a way that simply isn’t possible right now.”

Ten is correct, painfully so. Sitting here, in the palace, listening to one of the highest officials in the nation talk to him as if they’d been friends for years… yes, Ten had spoken the truth when he told Jeno he could open doors for him, as many as he wanted, if only he was willing to pay the price.

Information, he wants.

And try as he might, Jeno can’t convince Ten that he’s already told him everything he knows about the avatar, that he hasn’t left out any of their past adventures. And as he spoke the words aloud, Jeno also realised that he had no idea where they were headed after leaving Ba Sing Se.

None of them had told him that part.

Not even Jaemin.

Ten had laughed at his realisation. Jeno had been angry, but he reigned it in. Something about the promise of power motivated him to pause, to think. _Control_, Ten had said quietly, nails pressing crescent moons into Jeno’s forearm_, is the hardest thing for a fire elemental to master. But it is also the most rewarding. _

Ten’s promises mingled in Jeno’s mind along with his memories of his travels from the Southern Water Tribe to the Southern Air Temple, to the Foggy Swamp and then on to Ba Sing Se, and now back in the Fire Nation. The weeks before the coup seemed like a dream, a happiness Jeno had never expected to feel in his lifetime, once that he hadn’t considered possible.

Being poor and the only son of a single mother struggling to keep a roof over their heads had meant that despite Jeno’s attendance at the same school as the princes, he’d always been ostracized and unable to keep up with his richer classmates. His mother cleaned the school and earned the opportunity to send Jeno there, under the obligation to send Jeno into the military after graduation. Jeno graduated with good grades and was instantly sent to a post to train up as a soldier, and during his absence his mother fell ill… yet Jeno still is ranked too low to afford anything to help cure her, not just keep her _alive_. Ten had waived his absence and Jaemin’s ‘kidnapping’ of Jeno by way of setting the documentation aflame. He wants to help Jeno yes, but to what end?

“Heads up, kid.”

Jeno jerks out of his thoughts at the rattle of chains. From behind a pillar, guided by two soldiers, Johnny steps onto their balconette.

“Johnny,” Jeno breathes in shock. He glances to Ten for an explanation, but the captain is focused on the earthbender.

“Mr. Suh,” Ten greets, eyes alight with mischief and a shit-eating grin stretching his lips. “I thought you might appreciate a change of scenery, what with everything going on.” He waves his hand dismissively in the air, then gestures for the other soldiers to leave them alone.

Johnny’s face darkens like a thundercloud. “’Everything’? By that would you mean, destroying my home and murdering our people?”

Ten barks out a laugh. “Relax. We’re not _murdering_ everyone, just those who force the hand of the Fire Lord. How would slaughtering so many benefit us?”

“Your nation literally committed a genocide against the Air Nomads and you’re asking me that?”

“It was a fair fight.”

Johnny scoffs. “Right. Thank your propaganda for that.”

Jeno shifts uncomfortably. Just a few months earlier, he had believed the same as Ten- that the airbenders had lost a battle to the firebenders. Outside the Fire Nation, Jeno had realised the textbooks in his classrooms did not tell even half of the real story behind the Hundred Year War.

“Like I said, a slaughter would be useless. We are rebuilding Ba Sing Se in the image of the Fire Lord. Its walls will be open for trading once more, and the city will thrive.”

“You want the avatar dead.”

Jeno flinches at Johnny’s words, images of a happy, giggling Yangyang filling his mind. Another thing Jeno could not do: he would never, never give up Yangyang.

Loyalty to the Fire Lord ranked higher in importance than anything else in the Fire Nation. Yet, sitting here in the palace itself, Jeno could not be completely loyal. Guilt from neither side could move him on that, and so he remains stagnant, unable to commit to one side or the other.

_We work so well together_, Jeno had said to Jaemin that day in the bathhouse. _Our bending, I mean. There’s so many things we could do with it._ He remembers the way Jaemin’s eyes sparkled at the idea of the two of them working together. A world where they weren’t all on opposite sides of a hundred year old war, and the people he loved could all just be… happy; together; safe.

Ten’s returning hum is non-committal. He cocks his head, eyes running over Johnny’s chained hands and up to his face. Johnny seems to be newly arrived, still wearing now filthy Earth Kingdom attire: a sleeveless deep green shirt and dark brown pants. Ten shrugs. “It doesn’t have to be as drastic as you make it sound.”

“Yet it always is.”

“Sit down.”

Johnny stares straight ahead, unmoving, and Ten leaps to his feet in a flash, blade drawn and now just millimetres shy of Johnny’s throat. “I said. Sit. Down.”

Jaw set, Johnny sits.

Ten sits as well, the bite in his tone giving way to pleasantry just as quickly as he’d turned violent. “Let’s have a nice, civilized conversation.”

“Hard to do that with a knife at my throat.”

“You’re right,” Ten concedes, withdrawing his sword. He does his best to smile reassuringly, but Ten hasn’t had enough practice with calming people down in his lifetime, and to Johnny it just looks like a sneer.

Johnny focuses on Jeno now. “When did you leave?”

Jeno blinks.

“We were supposed to meet up for lunch to discuss the meeting with the king. So what did the king have to say?”

“I… I wasn’t there.” Jeno swallows, remembering the night before he left, seeing Yangyang and Xiaojun together, Jaemin passing by into the tavern to see Jaehyun and Doyoung, and then Renjun-

“Did you know about this?”

“No,” Jeno shakes his head once, then more insistently until Johnny looks convinced. “I swear I had no idea. I just… Ten offered to take me home. I’m loyal to the Fire Nation.”

Johnny’s mouth twists. “Loyal?” He scoffs harshly, and Jeno’s heart sinks to his stomach. “What do you have to be loyal to here that outweighs everything the rest of us did for you? Is this just some weak attempt not to bite the hand that feeds you?”

“Do _not_ judge my choices,” Jeno temper flares in humiliation, unable to take such anger from the generally kindly earthbender.

Before Johnny can retaliate, Ten throws his hands up between them.

“Okay, shut up!” The captain runs a hand through his slicked back black hair, and a gold ring set with a giant ruby flashes under the table’s lantern light. “If I wanted tension I’d have joined Yuta and Sicheng on their ridiculous undercover capers outside the Fire Nation, for gods’ sakes.”

Johnny’s eyebrows fly up at this. “By Yuta… you mean the prince?”

Ten grins. “You wanna hear more?”

Johnny scowls. “We are not on those terms.”

Jeno glances between the two, eyes wide with some worry and a little intrigue. The two men had very opposing ideas of each other, and it would be interesting to see how they would react to the stories behind the images they strongly believed in at the current time.

Ten arches an eyebrow. He slides a plate of watermelon toward Johnny, waiting for him to pick up a piece, even with his chains on.

After rolling his eyes, Johnny takes a piece. His wrists clink together as he bites into it, and then a look of surprise crosses his features at the taste. He takes another bite quickly.

“You’ll need to get on those terms,” Ten says idly. He reaches out, index finger tracing the drip of watermelon juice trailing from the corner of Johnny’s lips, unbothered by Johnny’s silent fury. “Because if I don’t have a use for you I’ll throw you right back in prison and trust me, you won’t like being the only earthbender in a Fire Nation cell, I promise you that.”

*

**Northern Fire Nation- resort Island**

_Ember Island _

Like most places, Ember Island is at its most beautiful at dusk.

Atop the balcony of the largest beach home on the island, Chenle leans over the rail, surveying the blue sea stretching out below. The large white, red-rooved houses are lit up with inside lights now, winking yellow in the waning light. Work duties over the night, Chenle unties his white robes and flings them onto the hammock to his left, then adjusts the waist band of his blue swimming shorts.

Chenle plucks a handful of cherries out of the fruit bowl he’d swiped from the last house’s fridge, shoving them down in one go before moving onto the ocean kumquats. He chews thoughtfully, watching the waves crash against the rocks in the bay.

“A breeze would be just the thing,” he murmurs mischievously, fingers dancing through the air. The wind picks up ever so slightly, lifting his black curls into the air and knocking gently into his back. “Perfect.”

“It’s lovely tonight, isn’t it?”

Chenle spins around, not expecting anyone else to be walking around this area at the time.

A boy stands in front of him, alone. He’s much taller than Chenle, with a slim build, but his face is youthful; he is probably Chenle’s age, or younger.

A sudden gust of wind blows open the boy’s complimentary white robe, and it is then that Chenle spies it: the gold insignia pin of the Fire Nation’s royal family.

Chenle chokes, then throws himself into a ninety-degree angle bow. “Your Highness, forgive me.”

The reply is languid. “For what?”

_For what? For what? _Chenle panics internally. _Is this a trick question? _

“You seem distressed.”

_Funny that, haha._ Was the game up? Had Chenle been outed by a traitor for money? It happened, he’d heard the rumours. But that would require some severe detective work, because Chenle had never told anyone who- what- he is, with the exception of a single other person, so unless someone had followed and listened and-

“I don’t expect anything to be ready,” the boy- prince- says. His footsteps sound along the wooden boardwalk toward Chenle, who remains bowed. “It was a last minute decision. I’m here with only a small crew, and they’re already being taken care of. I just wanted to go to my childhood home.”

Chenle cracks an eye open.

“Come on,” the prince insists. “I don’t bite.”

Rumours said otherwise.

Nevertheless, Chenle raises himself back to full height. At the very least, the prince didn’t appear to have seen Chenle’s actions upon his arrival, so perhaps there is no immediate threat to Chenle’s life.

He studies the prince. Not Prince Yuta, clearly. Chenle had never met any of the royals before, though he knew they frequented Ember Island for vacations- precisely the reason his rebel group had assigned him to work in this place for the last three months. Chenle had seen poster after poster of Prince Yuta, the striking eldest son with flashing eyes and a burn marring his face.

But not this one. The younger prince- though said to be the more fearsome of the two by those who know him- has an unassuming face: naturally pouted, downturned lips, though flames dance behind his large eyes.

“I’m Prince Jisung.” He holds his hand out to Chenle.

Chenle takes it, doing his best not to act like he will be burned if he makes contact. “Chenle, Your Highness. I work here.”

“Jisung.”

“Pardon me, Your Highness?”

Jisung shakes his head, lips quirking up. “Jisung will do. There’s no one else around to bother with the title right now.”

“Oh.”

There’s a long pause after this, neither of them quite knowing what to say.

Then Chenle dashes to the chair, clutching his robe against his chest to cover himself while he begins to pull it on. “I’ll just- escort you, I suppose- to the right house- I’m not sure which one it is, but-”

“It’s this one.”

Jisung points to the house Chenle had just spent the afternoon cleaning up, once again smiling at Chenle’s obvious relief.

“Oh. That worked out well.”

“Indeed,” Jisung nods, moving to stand at the bottom of the staircase leading up to the house. “Has it been busy here lately?”

“A little. There’s been a lot of young crowds coming in for the New Year’s celebrations.”

“New Year’s isn’t for a month.”

Chenle giggles at the confusion on Jisung’s face. “They are rich.”

Jisung considers this.

Feeling bold, Chenle asks a question of his own. “Are you not here with a group of your own, then?”

“I don’t really have any friends,” Jisung replies softly. “Just my older brother’s friends. I… graduated with people much older than myself.”

Chenle knows this. The prince is a prodigy, his firebending unrivalled in power save the Fire Lord himself, and according to rebel group intelligence, no one could generate the terrifying blue flame and lightning outside of the two.

He decides to indulge the topic. “I didn’t grow up with people like myself either.” It’s a funny thing, Chenle thinks, to lie while telling the truth.

Jisung laughs… sort of. The sound is raspy, as if he doesn’t have much practice doing it.

“I’ll be here for a few weeks, at the very least. If you’re here, I’d enjoy your company if you have the time.”

Chenle digests this request with confusion. All accounts of Prince Jisung told of a very nasty, sharp-witted and manipulative young man, one that would simply order Chenle to spend time with him, not ask politely. He wonders if he is being hustled by an imposter, or-

“You don’t have to, if you’d rather not.” Jisung is watching him with something akin to nervousness, another trait Chenle cannot reconcile to his idea of the prince. “I must confess, I don’t know how friends work. Or… well, yeah.”

Chenle laughs at this, not as shrilly as he often does, but still loud enough that it startles the prince somewhat. “It’s easy. Just ask simple questions. Build on it. You get there eventually.”

Jisung looks unnervingly attentive. “Like what?”

“Oh, um…. Like… like, what’s your favourite colour?”

“Blue.” Jisung blurts out the word, then covers his mouth. “I like red too, of course, but… anyway, what’s your favourite?”

The prince hadn’t said the colour of his own royal family, but Chenle’s favourite has to be more controversial than Jisung is expecting.

“I like orange.”

Chenle holds the prince’s gaze with bated breath as he awaits an answer, fully expecting to be struck down by the infamous blue lightning that only few survived after witnessing.

He needn’t have worried.

Jisung only smiles. “It seems the sky is eager to please you, then.” He lifts a hand into the sky, and Chenle realises the prince is talking about the orange glow cast over the whole of Ember Island by the setting sun. From the top of the stairs, Jisung curls his hand in the tiniest wave, as if unused to the motion. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow.”

A simple, strangely sweet beginning to what Chenle imagines to be a violent future ending between them.

But until then, surely it wouldn’t hurt to enjoy himself at the behest of the Fire Nation Prince himself?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chenle is finally here! 
> 
> i might try to revolve between around three viewpoints per chapter as this was quite easy to get together, but when it's yangyang and his waterbenders there's so many of them that there's already that many povs involved, so it will depend on who is with who at the time :)) 
> 
> as always any kudos n comments appreciated <333 im off uni for a cpl of months so updates will be more frequent for now!


	16. fly me to you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the waterbenders teach yangyang waterbending // love and other struggles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok uh so there was like a death in the family and then my friends stayed for a week and then my state got put into lockdown for covid and THEN i got sick so im beyond sorry for this excessively late up date and will try to make up for it ://

**Earth Kingdom **

_Outer territories _

“You have blood running down your arm.”

Jaehyun pauses cleaning off his spear to look down at his bare arms, which sure enough, a trickle of blood streaks down from his wrists. He frowns accusatorily at the dead hen in Doyoung’s grasp.

“Put the hen down and wash yourself off, Doyoung, or we’ll have something after us before we make it back to camp. I have a bag for the chicken.”

Doyoung gingerly sets the hen down. He hadn’t been pleased to be holding it in the first place, but the two men had been wandering the forest for what had to be at least three hours before stumbling across this poor creature. Jaehyun had speared and killed it within seconds of spotting it, which Doyoung believed to be the first useful thing he’d done in Doyoung’s presence.

They were overjoyed with the catch, but Doyoung- fearful of something dashing out of the woods to snatch away their heard-earned food- had been clinging to the dead bird for at least fifteen minutes.

He sniffs his clothes. _Ugh_.

Doyoung casts off his fur-lined coat to lie beside the chicken. He decides to wash it back at their camp site and hang it over the fire, but his undershirts cannot wait. Making his way into the river, he wades in waist-deep, pleasantly surprised by the almost warm temperature.

He lifts the hem of his shirt upwards, only to stop when he catches Jaehyun watching him with surprise.

“Turn around,” Doyoung orders.

Jaehyun’s lips quirk up, but he raises his hands in surrender and turns without hesitation. “The water is so much different to back home,” he says neutrally. He chuckles. “Maybe if I’d grown up here I wouldn’t have been scared of it.”

“You were _scared_ of it?” Doyoung barks. He narrows his eyes as Jaehyun begins to shake with laughter, nose wrinkling in annoyance as he glares at the firm muscles of Jaehyun’s naked back. So sue him, he’s a little shocked. It just doesn’t seem-

“I was terrified of it,” Jaehyun admits, and Doyoung can hear the smile in his voice. “My parents made me learn to swim anyway, of course, it would be a burden on the rest of the tribe had I somehow ended up falling in.”

Doyoung chews the inside of his cheek in thought, absently bending the river water over his upper body and his undershirts. “And how did you like it?”

“The swimming? Hated it,” Jaehyun laughs. “I think I would have drowned, had my bending instincts not kicked in. My mother was right there anyway, but at the time I didn’t trust her. I was furious at her and father for throwing me in. Not to mention little Nana swimming circles around me giggling.”

Doyoung catches on to the first part of Jaehyun’s words. “Your bending instincts- I thought you told me you never learned.”

Jaehyun turns at this, and Doyoung is so focused on the subject at hand that he doesn’t bother to scold him.

“No, I just said I don’t do it.”

Doyoung rolls his eyes. “All I’m hearing is that you could be contributing a lot more than just that boomerang of yours in a fight.”

“I can do that anyway,” Jaehyun boasts, puffing his chest out. “Any weapon is fine in my hands.”

With a scoff, Doyoung tosses his shirts to the river bank. Then he lowers his hands back to the water, and without any warning, sends a stream of water flying toward Jaehyun.

Palm out, Jaehyun redirects it.

Right into Doyoung’s face.

“_You_,” Doyoung splutters, black hair plastered down to cover his eyes and now resembling a drowned rat, “There is _no way_ you haven’t practiced lately.”

Jaehyun shrugs. “I have been the last few days. Just in case. But I won’t engage unless necessary.” He eyes Doyoung with a small smile. “Or unless I feel like dousing you with another round.”

He wades back to the bank, careful not to slip in the thick mud. Doyoung processes this new information while Jaehyun sits under the tree beside the hen, drying himself off with Doyoung’s coat before tugging his brown boots back on.

“Let’s head back.” Jaehyun points up at the late afternoon sky. “It’ll be sunset in about an hour, and Jaemin says Yangyang gets too hyper later in the night if we don’t eat earlier on.”

“When we get back I can teach you waterbending myself then. You’ll learn a lot faster that way.” 

“The main reason you’re with me right now is because Nana won’t let you teach Yangyang bloodbending,” Jaehyun side-eyes, hefting the carcass over his shoulder and setting off back to the camp. “What makes you think I’m letting you teach _me_ anything?”

Doyoung scrambles to his feet, gathering up his wet shirts and running after Jaehyun while pulling his coat back on. “That is not comparable to Jaemin’s request. Bloodbending is dangerous and Yangyang isn’t up to it yet-”

“Nor will he ever be, because he is a good kid.”

“_But_,” Doyoung glares, “waterbending in general is a part of you and you need to connect to it. Don’t you feel like a part of you is missing?”

“Yes, my mother. Who I lost because she gave herself to the Fire Nation as a waterbender to save Jaemin.”

Doyoung’s breath catches in his throat.

“Jaehyun,” he freezes, grabbing Jaehyun’s arm and pulling the blonde man to a stop too. He looks into Jaehyun’s eyes insistently. “I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”

A beat passes before Jaehyun smiles, but with only a hint of dimple. “It’s okay. I didn’t mean to come out with it like that.” He sighs, and Doyoung finds himself seeing a heaviness on Jaehyun’s shoulders that he’s never noticed before. “My father banned anyone from waterbending after she was gone, but Nana couldn’t let it go. Taeyong taught him sometimes, or he just tried things alone. It’s always been something we argue over… sometimes it…. hurts.”

They stand together in silence for a few moments, and all Doyoung can do is squeeze Jaehyun’s shoulder in an attempt to sympathise, wishing to somehow telepathically express just how _sorry_ he is.

Doyoung’s memories of his own parents are non-existent. He’d just turned up on the doorstep of an elder in the Foggy Swamp Tribe as a baby, with no clue to who he belonged to. Since the elder passed after Doyoung’s seventeenth birthday, he’d remained in the home he’d grown up in, and after Sooyoung discovered Renjun’s talent for bloodbending, Renjun joined him there too.

There was no strong love between the elder and Doyoung. He’d been raised as a duty, and forcefully trained in bloodbending along with waterbending.

Which was all well and good… except that now, Doyoung feels somewhat like a fish out of water in the emotional department. With his heart beating faster than as if he’d just run a marathon every time Jaehyun looks at him, Doyoung’s chest is beginning to feel permanently tight as they spend more and more time together.

He doesn’t know how long he has until his heart gives up on him and leaps right out of his chest.

“Doyoung?”

Doyoung blinks, snatching his hand from Jaehyun’s shoulder. “Just spaced out.”

“That’s not like you,” Jaehyun says teasingly, and Doyoung panics at his tone.

He shakes his head. _There’s no way Jaehyun knows_, he thinks, staring at Jaehyun’s back as the blonde walks off again. _He’s far too thick in the head, and- what am I saying. He doesn’t know anything because there is NOTHING to know! My god- _

“Doyoung, what are you doing back there?” Jaehyun calls over his shoulder. He startles a flock of birds in a nearby tree, and they squawk loudly overhead as Doyoung once again finds himself mumbling curses as he chases after the other man.

“Remind me why it’s always us catching the food while everyone else lazes around at camp,” Doyoung huffs, feeling slightly out of breath as the two face reach the incline of a hill.

Jaehyun adjusts the bag to his other shoulder, and Doyoung takes the opportunity to admire Jaehyun’s biceps in the sleeveless blue shirt he wears.

“If you call Renjun and Nana teaching the _Avatar_ ‘lazing around’ then I don’t know what to tell you,” Jaehyun jokes, and then he throws his arm around a stunned Doyoung, tugging his waist to bring Doyoung up to speed. “Maybe if you focused more on the positive nature of this pleasant walk out in the fresh afternoon air, you’d have a more _open-minded_-” 

Frantically, Doyoung wriggles out of Jaehyun’s grasp, firmly detaching himself from the other and needlessly patting himself down in attempt to calm himself. 

“Please, please, _please_ just let me complain in peace, just give me that.”

Jaehyun sighs. “Fine. But don’t complain to _me_ when you’re out of breath quicker than I am.”

“If not for the laws of this land and the dimples in your cheeks I would slaughter you.”

Jaehyun pauses in his tracks to look at Doyoung, and Doyoung feels his blood begin to boil as Jaehyun’s tongue pokes into his cheek, trying to hold back from laughing.

Unsuccessfully, his face splits a wild grin.

“You’re cute,” Jaehyun says, and then he breaks into a run, swinging the chicken comically in circles over his head as he goes. He spins around, running backwards up the hill, dimples on full display and eyes crinkled up with glee. “HURRY UP!”

It takes Doyoung a solid ten seconds to recover, then he’s sprinting after Jaehyun, legs burning from the steep incline. “FUCK YOU, JAEHYUN! SERIOUSLY!”

Jaehyun’s deep laughter echoes down mockingly, and all Doyoung can do is laugh with him.

*

“I’m like, ninety-nine percent sure I’ve got the hang of this now,” Yangyang cheers, hands cast up in the air as he commands a wall of water from the river. “This is so easy!”

Renjun, darting a quick look at Jaemin, lets out a low whistle.

“Well, yes,” Jaemin says reluctantly. His lower lip puckers ever so slightly, mildly put out by the immediacy with which Yangyang managed to succeed at recreating the same bending that had taken Jaemin a couple of months to learn. “You’re doing really well.”

Though he wouldn’t admit it aloud, Jaemin had been the one slowing Yangyang’s schooling down. Four days of travel had brought the group to outer territories of the Earth Kingdom, where Jaemin had expected they stay for at least a month or two while Yangyang perfected waterbending. To his dismay, Yangyang seemed to pick up everything in seconds. With the added weight of Jeno’s unexplained absence, Jaemin’s mind is in shambles, and his ego sorely bruised, to say the least.

From the way the others were treating the situation, Jaemin knew he hadn’t fooled any of them. Yangyang had once so obviously faked being unable to create the simplest wave that Doyoung had knocked him upside across the back of his head, prompting the rule that he go with Jaehyun to gather supplies. Jaehyun had realistically pointed out that not only was Yangyang naturally gifted with the abilities as the Avatar, but he was also well-versed in understanding chi thanks to the monks at the Air Temple, while Jaemin had struggled to figure out most things alone. Xiaojun gives him special concoctions of supposed ‘calming’ healing qualities. And Renjun’s eyes are always on him, a constant quiet presence that Jaemin loved yet found himself with the absurd urge to fight him for it.

All things considered, things are going… well.

“No, _NO_\- Yangyang _FOCUS_\- UGH!” 

The towering water-wall collapses in on itself, crashing downwards as Yangyang’s over-confident grin falls at the sight.

“YANGYANG! LOOK WHAT YOU DID TO ME!”

The three boys turn to the shore, where a now drenched Doyoung glares furiously at them, an equally sopping chicken dangling limply from one hand. Behind him, Jaehyun is speeding back along the trail from whence they came, chasing the raft of supplies that Yangyang just sent flying down the stream.

Yangyang flinches. “SORRY,” he cups his hands to carry the sound back to Doyoung, who rolls his eyes. Yangyang winks at the boys beside him. “I know you found that funny.”

Xiaojun pokes his head out of one tent, confusion on his face which quickly gives way to giggles as he spots drenched Doyoung. In his arms is a large bowl, which could either be some sort of broth for dinner or another of Xiaojun’s experimental potions. Everyone just had to hope that Xiaojun didn’t mix up the ingredients at any point, not feeling all too prepared to deal with unexpected disaster at the present time.

With Doyoung heading into his tent to change, Jaemin and Renjun give in to their withheld laughter, the three of them falling into the water in fits of giggles. Before Renjun can dunk Yangyang for the third time, Doyoung sticks his head back out of the tent.

“Huang Renjun! Get over here and help me find my clothes!”

Renjun sighs. “It’s not my fault you and Jaehyun can’t keep your tent tidy.”

“I heard that! It’s Jaehyun’s fault and you know it!”

Jaehyun freezes in front of the tent, turning sheepish as he intently begins double knotting the raft around an old tree stump. After an extra thirty seconds of stalling, Jaehyun eventually gives in to fate and enters the tent, where he is promptly flamed by Doyoung.

As Jaemin giggles at his brother’s misfortune, Yangyang shakes his head as if to reprove him, his wet hair frizzing up again while he does so. The light catches the sun-streaked orange highlights in Yangyang’s soft brown hair; it’s grown so much since the boys first met, now hanging almost over his eyes.

Yangyang splashes the water aimlessly for a few moments while Jaemin

“Jaemin.”

Jaemin stills at the name, the tone; it’s too serious, too formal, not the way Yangyang normally talks to him, but there’s still the underlying confidence with which Yangyang addresses everything he does. Jaemin swallows, then meets Yangyang’s eyes.

“Yes.” 

It’s a statement of affirmation rather than a question.

Yangyang tilts his head to one side. His lips quirk up cutely on one side, and he scrunches his nose. “I haven’t said anything yet.”

Jaemin looks up at the sky, shoulders shaking with soft laughter. Did Yangyang need to say anything? The Avatar is an open book at all times: Yangyang had never tried to hide his feelings from Jaemin; sometimes Jaemin feels overwhelmed looking into his warm brown eyes for too long, the way Yangyang lets his emotions spill right out without a care.

No matter that Jaemin had been grouchy and selfish all week, that he’d snapped almost half as much as Doyoung within three days, which was quite the feat. Yangyang always had an excuse at the ready: Jaemin was working too hard, Jaemin had to learn things alone, Yangyang already understood how bending worked. 

“We should let these clothes dry out before the sun disappears,” Yangyang says suddenly, wading towards the shore.

Jaemin stares after him in confusion. “Weren’t- I thought- ugh.”

Pouting sulkily, he kicks the water before following after. Yangyang has stripped himself of his orange jacket and appears to be performing some airbending technique to dry his white tank top and pants. Without a word, Jaemin tosses his overcoat onto the rocks and strips down to his pants. The fabric is specially designed and is already drying, a comfort that wasn’t provided by the green robes he wore inside Ba Sing Se.

As Jaemin continues to sulk, a shadow and rush of wind passes over him, and he looks up to see Yangyang soaring over him, effortlessly steering his glider up over the surrounding trees to the hill behind the river. Jaemin scrambles atop the rocks and shields the sun from his eyes with one hand, confusion increasing when Yangyang drops onto the grass.

It’s too far away for Jaemin to tell what on earth the airbender is up to, so he sits down and crosses his legs to wait. He smiles again as the other boys’ voices float over to him. Doyoung is bickering with Jaehyun again, though there’s no malice to it.

From the sound of Renjun’s laughter following Jaehyun’s terrible impersonation of a chicken, Jaemin figures he’ll find out what they’re all talking about at dinner.

“Boo.”

Jaemin twists around in surprise to find Yangyang above him, slowly hovering back down to join him on the rock. Between his teeth is a single flower with bright petals of purple and blue, unfurling prettily to reveal an orange centre. Jaemin sucks in his breath.

Yangyang grins, taking hold of the stem and offering it to Jaemin. “Do you like it?”

The flower looks unreal even in Jaemin’s hands. He turns it over and over, thumbing over the strangely velveteen petals, then looks up with a soft smile. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Neither have I,” Yangyang returns, but his eyes are on Jaemin, not the flower, and Jaemin shivers ever so slightly. Seeing this, Yangyang tries not to grin any more than he already is. “Cold, Nana?”

“You know I’m not,” he bites out, internally cursing himself for being so easily read. Perhaps he’s not much better than Yangyang after all.

Yangyang laughs. “I was going to ask you something, in the water.”

“I knew it.”

“But then I remembered the flower,” Yangyang continues. “I spotted it at midday, but I felt it needed a little more time.”

Jaemin tilts his head. “So now the time is right?”

“I think so, yes.” Yangyang shrugs with ease, and then his smile threatens to grow wider as Jaemin’s demeanour grows more impatient. “Unless it isn’t…”

“Ask me.”

Yangyang whistles, relishing the flash of annoyance cross Jaemin’s face before he asks, “can I kiss you, Nana?”

Even with the knowledge of what was to come, the dormant butterflies in Jaemin’s stomach began to whirl about wildly, the feeling akin to being knocked right off his feet. Somehow, the words had a stronger effect spoken allowed than he could have guessed.

“Of course,” Jaemin says breathlessly, almost unable to finish the words before Yangyang’s lips are on his.

The kiss is as chaste and light as anything Yangyang had ever given to Jaemin, so full of love that Jaemin feels as if he were walking on air. Yangyang’s fingers dance over his bare shoulders and into his hair to pull Jaemin close, and when he pulls away to press a kiss to Jaemin’s forehead, Jaemin wonders if the butterflies will burst out of his chest and fly away.

Yangyang’s eyes are shining when they meet eyes again, and it takes Jaemin a few seconds to realise that his face is beginning to split from how wide his smile is.

“Are there more flowers where this one came from?” Jaemin decides to break the silence, looking down at the one clutched in his hand.

Yangyang hums. “There are, but not exactly like that one.”

Jaemin smiles. “Take me to them.”

“That’s quite a walk, and it might be dark by the time-”

“No, I mean,” Jaemin leans around Yangyang to nod at the glider resting on the rocks behind him. “I want to fly with you.”

Minutes later, with his arms and legs wrapped tightly round Yangyang’s body, Jaemin closes his eyes as the two fly back to the field of flowers atop the hill, savouring the wind in his hair and the comforting thrum of Yangyang’s heartbeat where Jaemin’s head leans into his chest. 

*

If the other boys suspected anything beyond a quick excursion to explore the local territory, they didn’t mention it. Xiaojun and Renjun had worked together to make dinner: the hen- roasted over the fire by Renjun amidst Doyoung and Jaehyun fighting and cleaning their tent- and a broth of vegetables and herbs Xiaojun had gathered from the woods.

“I’m going to sleep early tonight,” Xiaojun announces, slurping down the last of the broth. He looks sadly down into his bowl, seemingly wishing for more soup to materialise. “My body still isn’t used to all the exercise I’ve been doing this week. I guess my body hasn’t yet realised we’ve left our Ba Sing Se freedom behind.”

Jaehyun stretches his arms overhead, rolling his neck around as he does so. “Same here, which doesn’t really make sense because I still worked out every day in our tavern.”

“I know, your sit-ups creaked on the floorboards every time,” Doyoung sighs. “But it’s probably a good idea for us all to rest early. Yangyang’s been learning at such a rapid pace that we should really be moving towards finding an earthbender to help. And a firebender… however we’ll manage that, I don’t much want to consider just yet.”

Yangyang looks mildly horrified at the idea. “Yes… Taeyong said it will be someone I least expect. Which makes it all the more confusing because I only know one firebender since waking up. I’ve been trying not to think about it.”

“Sometimes a plan isn’t a bad idea,” Jaemin says gently, tapping Yangyang’s hand under the table.

He risks a glance up at the airbender- met with unbridled joy as Yangyang takes hold of it and squeezes- but while the elder three boys are getting up and moving toward their tents, Renjun raises his eyebrow for just a millisecond before also retreating to his shared tent with Jaemin.

Jaemin bites his lip.

“You’re right, a plan isn’t a bad idea,” Yangyang says, getting to his feet. “But don’t overthink everything that’s going on. You worry too much, Nana.”

A tiny smile creeps onto Jaemin’s face, Yangyang’s positivity infectious as ever.

Yangyang ducks down to kiss Jaemin’s cheek and then his lips, giggling when Jaemin grabs his face to pinch his cheek.

“I’m going to join Xiaojun before he comes up with some nonsense about me ‘waking him during the night’ for being more than five minutes late to the tent,” Yangyang grins, ruffling Jaemin’s hair one more time.

Jaemin watches him all the way until Yangyang winks and disappears into his tent, smiling fondly. He gathers up the empty bowls and takes them to the edge of the river to drop into a net Jaehyun had tied around the rocks on their first day. It allowed them to soak overnight without worrying about the dishes becoming buried in the riverbed, and Jaemin was proud of his brother’s smart thinking.

He crouches down in the sand, stretching his hands over the water without any real aim. The water swirls under his control- quietly, so as not to cause any noise- and then rises into small hoops perfect to skim a stone through.

“The flower is pretty.”

Jaemin allows the water to fall back into the river, but doesn’t turn around. Instead, he leans back on his palm, looking up to see Renjun standing behind him. He supposes Renjun, as usual, had seen a lot more of the afternoon’s events than the elder three.

“Isn’t it?” Jaemin smiles impishly, getting to his feet. On impulse, he swiftly draws up another hoop of water and flings it at Renjun, who easily evades the childish feat.

“You’re too obvious,” Renjun sighs dramatically. “I can calculate any move you make before you even consider it.”

“That’s dreadfully cocky,” Jaemin giggles at the mock-seriousness of Renjun’s expression.

Renjun shrugs. “It’s hardly my fault you and Yangyang are so obvious with your feelings on anything and everything. At least Jeno has some sort of dignity-”

“Shut up,” Jaemin laughs, playfully slapping Renjun’s arm. “You’re a glacier but I wasn’t saying anything!”

“I already knew you thought that,” Renjun says airily. “See, everything you do is just-”

Jaemin’s lips crash against his, and Renjun almost trips backwards in surprise, only saved from falling by Jaemin’s steady hand on the small of his back. Jaemin smiles into the kiss, and only when Renjun laughs against his lips does he break for air.

“Everything I do,” Jaemin’s voice is mocking, barely-restrained laughter stuck in his throat. Feeling giddy, he moves past Renjun, making a beeline for their tent.

By the time he reaches the doorway, Renjun catches up with him, the bloodbender’s blue eyes darker than they were on the beach.

“You can’t just keep kissing people and running away.”

“Oh, but I can,” Jaemin sing-songs as he arranges the blankets on their makeshift bed, deciding to ignore the fact that he technically had nowhere to run this time. “It’s worked for me before and-”

“Yangyang has been working on a plan to get Jeno back.”

Jaemin stops still. 

The cool wind gushing against his face stops, and he realises that Renjun has closed the tent door. Jaemin sits silently on the bed, waiting for Renjun to get in beside him. Renjun sits next to him and crosses his arms over his chest, the slight furrow of his brow betraying his concern for the situation.

“It’s messy, and haphazard, as with all things Yangyang,” Renjun speaks again, thankful to see Jaemin smile at the mention of Yangyang’s usual behaviour. “But none of us know anything more about the Fire Nation Capital than what Jeno has told us, which isn’t much, so it’s not really Yangyang’s fault.”

Jaemin exhales slowly. “Who else knows about this?”

“Just me. We were thinking… until we get closer, maybe we don’t tell the others. I don’t think it would go down too well with Doyoung.”

“Doyoung? Try Jaehyun. He might never speak to me again for this.”

“So you’re in.”

Jaemin startles. “Did you not expect me to be?”

“It isn’t that,” Renjun chuckles at the look of indignation on Jaemin’s face. “It’s just that I expected you’d want a more solid plan before agreeing to immediate danger.”

A beat of silence passes between them, and when Jaemin meets Renjun’s eyes again, his own are brimming with tears.

“Do you think I did this? I mean, do you think Jeno left because I ran away from him?”

Renjun carefully thumbs away the tears on Jaemin’s lash line, smiling softly. “No length is too far to run after you, Nana. Whatever is going on in Jeno’s life, he’ll be running to catch up to us when he’s done with it. Just wait and see.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yah na jaemin it boy 
> 
> next chapter might be onto where luwoo are at .... im thinkin . 
> 
> thank u for kudos and reading as always ily all


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